The Absence
by Conqueror Worm
Summary: Caught in an unwanted marriage to James Potter, Lily staves off depression through her brief encounters with Severus, her now-contemptuous childhood friend. Meanwhile, a young Hermione develops a crush on Sirius, and Regulus succumbs to the Dark Arts.
1. Chapter 1

**This story is based on prominent parts and characters of the Harry Potter books but **_**is **_**quite AU. It ignores popular sentiments about certain relationships, and the time frame of all events has been shifted to be consistent with the chosen plot, not the books'. This fanfic will most likely contain an extramarital affair, death and other disturbing situations, and possibly an inappropriate relationship between a minor and an adult. You have been warned.**

The Absence

by The Conqueror Worm

Chapter 1

_"Death is not the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss is what dies inside us while we live."_

_-Norman Cousins_

**llllll**

Hermione Granger and her parents moved into Number 20 of Godric's Hollow in September. She was nine years old, precocious, and woefully more intelligent than most of her peers. Harry Potter, sadly, was not an exception to this fact.

"I don't like her," Harry whined to his mother, his green eyes peering over the top of the table where Lily was sitting. His eyes squinted behind his smudged glasses as his mother ruffled his unruly mop of hair. Lily frowned in response to his derision towards her affection, sad that Harry had grown away from her in the few months since his eighth birthday. Her mother had warned her that children were not to be expected to play the part of baby ducklings forever, but she had been hoping that Harry would wait to be independent until his teenage years. Well, as he was James Potter's child, it was to be expected.

"You don't have to like her, pumpkin," she consoled, bending down to catch his stubborn gaze. "But you do have to be nice. The Grangers are new to our neighbor—"

"But I don't _like _her!" Harry wailed, interrupting her stream of logic to adopt a new tone of hysteria. Lily sighed, muttering something along the lines of "like father, like son," which was ignored.

Before she could scold Harry for interrupting her, James Potter strolled into the room. "Oi!" he said, shocked at Harry's characteristic crying. "What's wrong, Harry?" He rushed over to easily scoop his son into a warm embrace, pretending to understand the muffled garble of complaints Harry was issuing into his shoulder. James failed to notice Lily's glare of impatience, directed at his soothing words. Standing, Lily stormed out of the room under the guise of washing her tea cup. In truth, she was actually trying to read Severus's latest letter, inviting her over for a spot of dueling, followed by work on his latest Potions' theory. Lily, who was not an idiot, knew not to let James even imagine the idea of Severus sending her letters, lest he decide she was receiving secret love letters. This was not wholly untrue. Severus did always insert at least one semi-kind sentiment in each letter, though Lily suspected it had less to do with sincerity and more to do with trying to pry her away from her precious family for a few hours. James could warp it no matter what Severus's intentions were.

James slamming into the kitchen door made Lily jump, though she managed to hastily stow the letter in her back pocket as she turned to face her husband. Goofily grinning, both James and Harry were staring at her expectantly. "We're hungry," they both said; James eyed the kitchen, obviously devoid of dinner. "Need a hand?" he said, insincerely.

Lily rolled her eyes. "You'll just have to make do on your own. I'm going over to Severus's for a few hours."

"At this hour?"

Her dead pan tone was lost on him. "It's only five o' clock, James."

"But we're hungry _now_!" Harry whined, close to tears again. Lily quelled him with a firm stare.

"Why are you going over to Snivellus's house?" James asked, acting oblivious to the whole exchange and Lily's tired, 'Don't call him that!' "Surely you'd rather stay here than spend time in his greasy hovel." Lily's glare did nothing to him; he continued staring suspiciously at her. His hazel eyes flickered toward her back pocket. Apparently, she had not been quick enough. Damn Quidditch reflexes…

Sighing, Lily waved her wand at the refrigerator, dousing them all in cold air as two frozen dinners sailed out of the freezer and landed on top of the stove with a thunk. The snap of the closing door and the absence of breeze left them in an icy silence. "I assume that you can read and understand directions by now, _dear_. Try not to set anything on fire. Have Harry in bed by nine tonight. He has a play date with Hermione in the morning." Lily's shoulders slumped with exhaustion as she finished rattling off a list she knew James had already forgotten. No matter how hard she tried to make him an equal partner, a responsible adult, he continued to be more of a hindrance to her goals than anything. For instance, he had yet to figure out any aspect of Muggle technology, and Lily had to constantly walk behind him, turning off the unused oven, throwing out spoiled milk because he had left the refrigerator open _again_…

James frowned, interrupting her racing thoughts and mounting annoyance. "If he doesn't like this girl…"

"Too bad!" Lily shrieked, losing the last of her self-control. "Since when does liking or not liking someone matter to you?" The words hit James like a slap to the face. He hurriedly set Harry down and pointed him in the direction of the living room. Lily forced herself to look away from James' hurt expression—to not feel a sense of triumph anymore. Her green eyes met only the yellow kitchen tiles as she gripped the countertop behind her. It took too much effort to force the words out, but she did. "I'm sorry. You know I didn't mean that."

"Lily—"

"No, James. Let's just not, okay?" His shoes came closer, intruding on her sea of kitchen tiles. She pushed the feelings of annoyance and anger away. "Look, Harry needs to learn to play with children his own age, not just ours." James chuckled half-heartedly, as if she was joking. "I know Hermione is more mature and smarter than he is, but there will always be people like that. He needs to learn to deal with it and not be so rude about—"

He cut her off. "It's sort of like when we were in school, isn't it? One hating the other. You know…"

"Yes," she said quickly, forcefully pushing a lock of red hair behind her ear. "But I was Harry in this case. And to be honest, I don't think Hermione likes him any more than he likes her. But since they're the only children in Godric's Hollow..." This time, Lily didn't care enough to finish her sentence. Severus was waiting for her. "I'm going now. Cook dinner, bed by nine. I'll be back before midnight, okay?" Her edge of impatience slipped into the last word.

She felt James reach out before he ever actually touched her. His hand gently caught her chin, lifting it until their eyes met. He was nearly a foot taller than her, and even that fact annoyed her. "I love you," he said firmly, as if trying to destroy whatever emotion he imagined behind her blank stare. If it did not feel so much like another thing holding her down, she would feel happy to hear those words. But the knowledge that Severus was shorter than James—closer to her height—weighed so heavily on her lifted chin that she had to shake out of James's grasp.

"Dinner, then bed," she gasped, trying to act as if he had never said a word after her initial statement about visiting Severus. "I really have to leave now."

James muttered a goodbye, following her departure until he, now with Harry entangled around one leg, stood in the doorway, watching her Disapparate.

**llllll**

Severus was waiting outside of his small, desolate home in Spinner's End when she turned onto his street twenty yards away. With a soft snort of amusement as Lily ran toward him, he threw his cigarette onto the stoop, crushing it with the toe of his black boot. "You're late," he muttered, barely loud enough for her to hear, and he walked into his somber "hovel," as James called it, closing the door with a soft click before Lily reached the stoop.

Lily stopped, staring at the closed door. Honestly, what was wrong with men today? She stormed up the crumbling stairs of Spinner's End, kicking the door with her tennis shoe so that the door rattled in its frame. "Sev, come _on_! Let me in; it's freezing." She thought she caught a slight ruffle of the window's curtain out of the corner of her eye, but knowing Severus, this seemed unlikely. She could picture him—just sitting in his rickety armchair, smirking over a cup of tea. Or more likely seething that he had to destroy a perfectly good cigarette just to punish her. Both images incited her further, and yanking her wand from her back pocket, she began casting every unlocking spell that came to mind. None worked.

"I've been inventing new spells lately," he quietly said from behind her. Lily shrieked, spinning around to point her wand at his face. He looked wraith-like under the light; the orange, fiery glow from the setting sun behind him accentuated the darkness of his clothes and hair. The corner of his mouth twitched, but his black eyes remained blank. "What is the first thing we learned in Defense Against the Dark Arts?"

"Constant vigilance," Lily grumbled, sulkily putting her wand away. She let her red hair fall across her face, hiding the flush of embarrassment tingeing her pale cheeks. "I don't suppose you'll show me any of your new spells?"

Severus surveyed her from between two curtains of dark hair. "No, I don't suppose I will. Maybe later—if you earn it," he appended when she frowned. "If we start the potion now, we can duel while it's boiling."

She stared over his shoulder at the darkening sky. The sun was no longer visible from Spinner's End. He seemed to guess the reason for her stare. "What? You can't stay out that late? _Dear James_ won't let you stay at nasty little Snivellus's for more than an hour?"

"James doesn't own me," Lily snapped. She thought of Harry, home with his almost incompetent father. "But the baby…"

"Will be fine," he finished for her. "I grew up in the worst conditions possible for a child, and I'm fine." He noticed the brief flicker of disagreement on her face, though she had tried to stifle it. "It's only a few hours, Lily," he snapped, losing the slight amusement that had been in his eyes up until this point. "Surely, he'll survive, if nothing else. But if you'd rather go home than stay here, by all means…" He swept past her, the dark end of his robes fluttering against her jean-clad shins as he brushed past her. The lock clicked as he tapped it against the peeling paint of the wood.

Her hand shot out, clinging to the worn fabric of his sleeve. "No! I can stay. I'll stay if you want."

"'Want?' " Severus turned his head enough to stare coldly at her through one curtain of greasy hair. She felt her stomach sink as she realized the absence of true friendship and adoration in his gaze. She was nothing to him but James Potter's wife. "I don't want anything from you."

**llllll**

**Author's Note: I think it only fair to warn you all that I am in college, work part-time, and am working on an original novel, so updates may be slow and inconsistent for this story. That being said, I have written 6 chapters of this story so far, all about equal in length to this one, so you can expect those to be posted intermittently on a more reliable schedule. I appreciate **_**all**_** feedback; I'm equally complimented by things like Story/Author Alerts and Favorites as I am by brief reviews, so feel free to push me to update and tell me how I'm doing anyway you like. If you have a suggestion, question, or one thing you really enjoyed and would like to see more of, however, please **_**do**_** review or private message me. Thank you!**


	2. Chapter 2

The Absence

Chapter 2

By The Conqueror Worm

"_But there are dreams that cannot be,  
>And there are storms we cannot weather."<em>

_-Les Miserables, 'I Dreamed a Dream'_

**lllll**

"Boys are always less intelligent than me," Hermione said, primly sipping green tea from a small china cup.

They were sitting in the dining room at a round, ornate table. Sun streamed through the spotless sliding doors, and muffled shrieks and guffaws came with it. Lily reached across the table, clamping both hands down upon the small girl's shoulders. "Welcome to the rest of your life."

This seemed to worry Hermione rather than assuage her complaint. Apparently, Lily noted, nine year olds didn't commiserate. "Is that really true? _All_ boys are idiots?"

The young woman had to bite her tongue to stop the 'Yes' from slipping out. Thinking over her knowledge of boys, she could think of two exceptions—Severus and Remus. "Well, not all boys," she began slowly, staring thoughtfully at her tea. "But most of them. Some boys are smart, but…" Shy werewolf, emotionally-repressed friend… "There are still downsides to the intelligent ones."

"Downsides?" Hermione asked, more challenging than Lily expected. Usually, Harry accepted everything she said, unless he felt like crying. "Like what?"

"Lots of things." Lily stared into the unimpressed brown eyes peering back at her. "Look, you'll just never understand them. Not because they're smarter or because they're not, but because they're different. And essentially, all oblivious idiots anyway, not matter how many books they read."

Hermione was silent for a few moments, considering this revelation. She no longer seemed to disagree, at least, though the splatters of mud across the window, courtesy of Harry, James, and Sirius, might have encouraged her acceptance. "That's sad."

Lily sighed, ignoring James mud-covered hand waving wildly on the other side of the glass. "Like I said, welcome to the rest of your life."

**llllll**

"I'll do the right thing," James Potter said quietly.

"What?" Lily Evans snapped, jerking her head up away from where it had previously been clutched in her hands. Her hair flew out around her pale face, framing it, and James marveled as always. Her green eyes burned him. "Do you even know what the right thing is?"

His eyes flickered over to the pink contents of the toilet bowl. He realized that this was the fifth time he'd been in the girls' restroom, though it had never been for this reason. Pink for positive; blue for negative. "We'll get married. Soon, so people won't talk. Just say you've been secretly in love with me for years." The last sentence came out with ill-disguised hope.

Lily snarled and threw her head violently into her hands. She instantly regretted the action, as a wave of nausea passed over her again; she wondered if it was due to James Potter crammed into the stall with her, his muddy Quidditch robes brushing her jeans, or morning sickness. With a lurch, she slammed her hand down on the toilet lever. They watched the pink contents swirl in the white cistern between them until the water was clear again.

"I'll have Severus take care of it. Then, we can both just pretend this never happened." She pushed the door open, cringing at its loud screech of protest. James caught her arm, ignoring her struggle and protests. She turned to find his face lit up with naiveté and innocence.

"Take care of what? Of…of…" He stared down at her flat, sweater-clad stomach, as if a baby might pop out any minute. "Our baby?"

Lily pushed him hard enough to make him fall through the open stall door and onto the toilet. "You don't actually think I'd marry you and have your child, do you?" She was stuck between exasperation and disbelief. "Surely, even you aren't that stupid. To think I'd throw my life away for anything involving you! Why can't you get it through your empty skull? _I hate you!_" She turned her back on his hurt expression.

The entire hurried march to the dungeons, she tried again to remember the events of three weeks ago. The Gryffindors were throwing a victory Quidditch party, with James at the helm, and though Lily detested James, she did her best to have a good time (and to avoid him). Who had mixed her drink, Lily wondered, clutching onto her flat stomach with disgust? Who had handed it to her? She had thought Mary or Alice. Maybe even Remus. But she knew these assumptions were wrong. Mary had giggled about making out with Sirius in a broom closet most of the night. Alice had been busy talking to Frank. Remus had claimed a headache and snuck off to his room for some quiet. It kept coming back to the tap on her shoulder, the hand pressing a cup into her palm, a voice saying "Butter Beer." She had downed it without thinking, only later registering the too-sweet taste and the smell of fresh ink, blueberries, and her mother's soap. The next morning, she had awoken to a snoring James and a conspicuous lack of clothing. Sirius was grinning through the slit in the bed clothes, singing the Hogwarts anthem at the top of his lungs. Peter timidly alternated between blatantly staring at her and his hands, nervously twisting one over the other. In the background, Remus had his back to her, meticulously folding and refolding the same set of shabby robes.

She burst into the dungeon Slughorn allowed his NEWT students to brew in under his supervision. "Please, sir," Lily gasped, ignoring his cry of welcome, "If I could have a moment alone with Severus?"

Slughorn said nothing; he merely raised his eyebrows with a knowing smirk as he exited the room. "What's wrong, Lil?" Severus asked, not looking up from his potion. He was experimenting with something, but Lily was too flustered to recognize the array of ingredients.

"Oh, Sev, you have to help me!"

Snape dropped his parring knife and looked up at her in alarm. "What's wrong?" His black eyes flickered all over, trying to find a wound or another reason for her distress. The memory of his expression—far more expressive than any he shows now—is what haunts Lily. Severus never looked so innocent, so worried, or so in love with her.

"I'm pregnant." Snape looked into her emerald eyes, trying to find a jest. She felt him push the bounds of her mind gently, seeking the truth. The memory of concocting the pregnancy potion floated to her mind. He didn't say anything—just looked away, studying the wall as if all his answers lay scrawled across its surface. "It was an accident. It didn't mean anything, of course. I was at a party and…" She burst into tears, throwing her arms around him. His thin arms lay limp at his sides. "You just have to help me get rid of it. I can't… I just can't. Please, Sev."

He pushed her away, causing her to bang a hip into the table. "How did this happen?" he snapped. But his anger seemed to dissipate as he suddenly shook his head. "Why can't you just do it?"

Lily looked away from his probing eyes. "I'm scared I'll mess it up. It's so complicated. One wrong move, and it'll make me bleed to death. I know you'll do it right." She hated herself for saying the next words that came to mind, but she couldn't stop them. "You're the only one I can trust."

She could see his resolve wavering. She could almost feel his thoughts swarming in his head, conflicted about wanting to try a new potion, the possibility of accidentally killing his best friend, the desire not to kill a baby. But all of the whirring ended when a new question arose. "Whose is it? Who is the father?"

The lies flooded her brain. Every cell in her body told her not to tell him the truth. But Lily knew she could never lie to Severus, and she would rather tell him the truth than to have him find it in her mind. "James Potter."

Severus reacted as if she had struck him as hard as she had James Potter minutes before. He stumbled into the stool behind him, elbowing his cauldron and causing the contents to fizz and burn. "Potter? _Potter?_ Out of all of the… Any other… God, Lily, why my most hated enemy? Why _him_?" He was yelling by this point, his crooked teeth gritted, his pale cheeks slightly flushed. His eyes were black pools of agony. Lily could see it in his eyes. If it had been any other male, his anger would have simmered and cooled over time. He would have forgiven her and brewed the potion correctly. If she had said anyone else— Lucius Malfoy, Frank Longbottom, even Remus—she would have been absolved. But not James Potter. Lily watched the last of Snape's loyal childhood crush for her fizzle and burn away in his black eyes.

"Please," she whispered.

"No! You deserve whatever fate you get. You _deserve_ James Potter and his child." He spun on the spot with a snap of his robes and stalked from the room. Lily burst into fresh tears, and Slughorn stood in the doorway of the classroom, lost and confused. She knew she could ask him—ask good ol' Sluggy to brew the potion. But at what cost? As her Professor slipped back out of the room, Lily's tears stopped as all hope for another life disappeared. There were ways to get rid of the child. Potions, curses, "accidents," but Lily knew she wouldn't. Without Severus beside her, ever loyal and quietly powerful, she knew she wouldn't have to strength to do away with the nuisance. She was trapped, and as Lily wiped away her tears, she could almost feel the shackle of an engagement ring on her finger.

**llllll**

**A/N: For this story, there is obviously a certain amount of "suspension of disbelief" required on your part, dear reader. Just roll with it, please. I originally planned on posting a new chapter every Thursday, but as I have been writing quite a few new chapters lately, I'll probably be able to avoid a seriously long lapse without posting anything new. So, look back for a new chapter every Monday and Thursday, and I'll warn you all if I run out of saved-up chapters to post. Reviews, etc. are appreciated. **

**A/N updated: Thanks to a few reviewers for commenting about it already: James didn't give Lily the potion or know anything about it. More on that later…**


	3. Chapter 3

The Absence

Chapter 3

by The Conqueror Worm

"_All I ever wanted, all I ever needed, is here in my arms. _

_Words are very unnecessary; they can only do harm."_

_-"Enjoy the Silence," Depeche Mode_

**llllll**

"Hey, Potter," James turned away from the admiring crowd surrounding him, all of whom were congratulating him on an awesome play. His hazel eyes widened in shock when he realized that it was Lily Evans sidling up to him, a shy smile on her face. Her green eyes were shiny, and her hair was a bit ruffled on one side. "Pretty good game today."

"Yeah?" James instinctively reached up to muss his own hair a bit more, and Lily grinned sheepishly in response. "I suppose it was, huh?" He was a little confused as to why Lily Evans was still standing there, looking up through her eyelashes at him and grinning devishly, but after years of pursuing her, he wasn't about to question this moment of fortune.

Lily laid her hand gently on his upper arm and looked down at her feet. "I don't know if you noticed, but I cheered the loudest whenever you scored."

James could feel a bright red blush creeping up his neck when she chanced a glance to gauge his reaction. A thought suddenly occurred to him, and his eyes flickered around the crowded common room. Was this a joke? Some cruel prank Lily and her friends—or worse, Snivellus—had cooked up to deflate his supposedly large ego? But no one seemed to be looking their way and Lily was still shyly gripping onto the sleeve of his Quidditch robes. She swayed a bit, and another horrifying thought occurred to him. "You haven't been drinking, have you?"

Lily looked up at him with hurt tears in her eyes. "How can you say that? I haven't had anything but Butterbeer all night." Now she was grabbing at the front of his robes with both of her hands, pulling him closer to her chest. "Do I have to be drunk to be good enough to talk to you, James Potter? I know I'm not much—just a plain Mudblood—but the truth is—" She was cut off by James's laugh of disbelief at her words. They were so incorrect from how he felt. "Shh," she said, placing one finger over his lips. "Let me finish. The truth is, all of this time, I've been in love with you."

He paused for a moment, staring first from her then back to the crowd, trying to find anyone who was watching them. Surely this was a joke. But only a slew of third years seemed to be near them, and they were all talking animatedly about the game. "You're…not joking?" he ventured, looking back into her green eyes.

"Of course not, James. Couldn't you tell? All this time…" And he barely had time to close his eyes before she was kissing him passionately. A few wolf whistles and gasps echoed around the room as people finally noticed the unlikely pair, but James was too deep in the moment he'd been waiting seven years to happen. After a few moments, Lily separated from him. She mumbled something he didn't quite catch, but as she pulled him along toward the stairs leading to the boys' dormitories, he understood.

Lily opened the door to the dorm he shared with Peter, Frank, Sirius, and Remus, the latter of whom was sitting on his bed, reading a book he'd gotten from the library. He looked up with surprise at the pair. "Hello, Lily," he said quietly, studying the pair through tired, wary eyes.

"Hm?" Lily said in response, sliding onto James's bed. "I like your sheets, James."

"They're the regular standard issue, I think," James said awkwardly, looking from Remus to the goddess laying across his red and gold sheets, and back.

Remus stood and tucked a few books under his arm. "Perhaps I'll go to the library now."

James wanted to tell Remus not to go, but Lily was beckoning to him from his bed, her red hair spilling across his pillowcase. "Thanks, Moony," he murmured, but Remus was already gone, shutting the door quietly behind him. Feeling stupid and uncomfortable under her direct gaze, James obeyed Lily and sat on the edge of his bed beside her. She yanked him back rather roughly by his collar.

Her eyes glittered as she leaned over him. Her hair spilled in a curtain around their faces. "Tell me what you want, James," she whispered, kissing him softly on the lips.

With unsure hands, James put his hands on her waist. He'd only ever kissed two girls, and one of those had been part of a game. The most he knew about snogging and more were through stories from Sirius, who had a new girl on his arm (and mouth) every few weeks. A girl in his bed, her hands roaming across his chest and hips as they kissed, was most definitely new territory. Lily twisted and pulled, so that he was on top of her now, never breaking their kiss. She yanked his robes over his head frantically. "Wait," he cried out when she suddenly tugged at his belt. "Lily," he studied her eyes, feeling a bit fearful. "Are you sure you…?" He wasn't sure how to finish his sentence. He only knew that the feeling that something important was about to happen increased when she smiled and mussed up his hair herself.

"It's you, James. It's always been you. Of course I want to." She pulled him back down to her, pushing her hips against his as she did so. James allowed her to take charge, to dictate what he should do. But after, when he woke up the next morning and everyone suddenly knew what had happened between him and Lily, he felt a little sick. Perhaps he had been too young or hadn't really known Lily enough in the way that he thought was important before doing such things. And later, when she told him she was pregnant, he'd felt weird, as if it wasn't really happening to either of them—like he was watching another couple.

"I'll just have Sev get rid of it," she'd said. As he sat on the toilet in the girls' room, listening to Moaning Myrtle wail, the realization that all of this _was_ real suddenly hit him, and he jumped up and sprinted to the dungeons, prepared to hex Snape if he had to.

Instead, he found Lily sitting in an empty classroom, her forehead resting against one of the wooden tables. "Lily?" he called out softly. "Are you all right?"

"What do you think, James?" she said wearily, and he was surprised how normal her voice sounded; he had been sure she would be crying.

"Listen, Lily, I don't think what you're planning is a good idea." Lily sat up and turned to glare over her shoulder at him. "Look," he sighed. "I know that we don't have as much in common as you'd like, but I'm really not a bad guy. I'm loyal and intelligent and talented and I…I…" he walked quickly over to her and grabbed one of her hands, bringing it to his chest. "I have loved you for seven years now, unequivocally. No matter how much you screamed at me and hexed me and took away points, nothing has ever changed that fact."

Lily continued to stare mutely up at him, but her glare had softened somewhat. "If you want, if you decide you want to keep the baby, I would marry you, Lily. I would take care of you." He gave her a crooked little smile and squeezed her hand. "Okay?" He was shocked when she suddenly leaned forward and pressed her face against his chest, her eyes closed. He wrapped him arms around her. "I'll always be here for you, Lily. _Always._"

James never questioned this blip in the beginning of their relationship, nor did he question her bursts of anger toward him or her tired way of sighing whenever he entered the same room. He would tell Padfoot and Moony, whenever they casually asked him about it, that Lily was very passionate and loved him in her own, quiet way, and he forcefully ignored the disagreeing looks that passed between his best friends. He also never spoke of or acknowledged the way Lily cried and wouldn't let him touch her on their wedding night; after all, she was incredibly pregnant by then and already prone to bursting into tears. But her own melancholy and dissatisfaction kept a firm distance between them that she never made a motion to lessen, and James compensated by throwing himself into fatherhood, showering his son with the praise and affection his wife refused to accept.

**llllll**

**A/N: This chapter is inserted here for clarification purposes. To be honest, I'm not all that happy with it as a part of the written story, but it seemed necessary to acknowledge the exact circumstances surrounding Lily and James's marriage. If you're confused by Lily's behavior, I encourage you to review the effects of Amortentia in HP6. Also, I plan to follow the advice to roughly date these chapters, even if they are AU. If anyone knows a good site for the HP timeline during the Marauders' era and beyond, please include it in a PM or review. I appreciate the reviews and suggestions; keep them coming if you have a moment, please. : )**


	4. Chapter 4

The Absence

Chapter 4

by The Conqueror Worm

**A/N: 1) If you missed it because I posted both chapter 3 **_**and**_** 4 today, please go back and read 3 now. 2) It's been pretty tame so far, so I just want to put out another reminder that this story is rated M for a reason. **

"_Let not light see my black and deep desires."_

_-"Macbeth"_

**llllll**

Lily shut the door quietly behind Hermione and her mother. Mrs. Granger was at least ten years older than Lily, and while Lily found her quite nice, she could feel herself putting up a wall against this woman—this _adult_—every time they spoke. She couldn't stop the ever growing feeling, year after year, that she was still a mature child, playing house, bossing around children much younger than her. But an adult? No, Lily still didn't feel grown up. Perhaps it was because all of the possibilities for her life that she had dreamt of for years—working for the Ministry, inventing new potions and spells with Severus, writing lengthy textbooks, perhaps teaching students one day—had yet to come true and were growing evermore unlikely. If she paused to admit that the weariness that she felt day in and day out were signs that her adulthood had arrived, unwelcome and insignificant in its monotony, she wouldn't be able to keep going, she thought. What would be the point? Wasn't that the purpose of living—to achieve great things, to reach some final glorious peak of accomplishments and spend the rest of your days reveling in the victory?

Watching through the window, she became so consumed by the careful, poignant way Hermione reached out and gently grasped her mother's hand that she didn't hear the soft steps of Sirius Black entering the room. A sharp tap on her bony shoulder made her jump, and she whirled around to look up at his grinning face, anger flashing white hot in her chest. Sirius was no longer covered in mud, and his long black hair was slicked back, reminding her again of his brother, Regulus. She noted with a scowl that he was wearing James's robes, which were several inches too short for him.

Severus and Regulus were still good friends, and she sometimes saw the two of them together, talking in hushed voices, at the apothecary where Severus worked. Every time she dropped by to visit while shopping, as if he could sense her presence, Severus would look up at Lily for a few seconds before sending Regulus away with a firm glance. The latter would always grimly glare at Lily before stalking out of the store. Lily cringed at the memory of her last visit to Severus's shop, during which Regulus lingered uncharacteristically. She had had Harry in tow, and he had obnoxiously started pointing at everything, asking its name, pulling things off of the shelf and boorishly knocking things over. Regulus had smirked in cold amusement at Lily's stuttering apologies as she scrambled to right everything. Severus had been oddly silent, looking away from everyone, until Lily finally gave up on her son and led him rather crossly from the store, her hand a painful grip upon his wrist.

The similarity between the two brothers was quickly broken by Sirius's voice. "Hey, Lils. Didn't mean to scare you," he said, before unceremoniously flopping down on her paisley couch. The casual way a damp lock of hair flopped over one grey eye, the lithe curves of his muscular form beneath James's robe… Lily was instantly overcome with an odd feeling, and she quickly turned away from Sirius, trying to steady her pulse. She hated herself for it—more so than she did for marrying James Potter—but sometimes, she just could not stop the effect Sirius Black had on her body. There was something truly sexy about him, and his confidence and charm were intoxicating at times. This was another thing that set him and his brother apart; Regulus had simply never mastered control of the Black family's good looks. There was something unpleasant and sinister about his face at times, but the attractive haughtiness his sibling and cousins had achieved escaped him. And Sirius next to James? Well, James looked like a nerdy little boy in comparison. Lily had never blatantly told him this, even when they were true enemies at Hogwarts, but she had always found James's messy hair and oversized, circular glasses revolting and childish. It pained her that her son had inherited his looks. Only her eyes set resolutely in Harry's little face assured her that he had not simply sprung into being from James's body.

As if sensing Lily's reaction to him, Sirius's next words were formed with a cocky smirk. "So, things with you and James are going well, then?" Lily's stomach swam with nausea, as it did every time anyone asked her this question.

"Yeah. Yes, of course," Lily replied. Her voice was forced but firm. She turned resolutely around to meet Sirius's gaze.

His eyes were only half open as he looked up at her beautiful face. A dark mood seemed to pass over his face when she didn't smile. His tone became nasty. "And Snivelly? However is our dear friend these days? Still polluting our world's oceans with a steady stream of grease?"

Lily was about to lunge at Sirius's throat when James and Harry walked in, grinning. Her anger at Sirius's words faded as she felt instantly exhausted by James's poor attempt to dress their son. Harry was clothed in an orange tank top and red shorts. His feet were bare, despite the slight chill in the room. James was wearing blue robes that flattered his hazel eyes. Lily felt a tinge of guilt for thinking him unattractive in comparison to Sirius moments before. Perhaps the latter was better composed and more good looking, but there was a certain charm to James's looks. Noticing her long stare, James grinned and pushed his glasses further up on his long nose.

"There's my gorgeous wife!" he exclaimed joyously and walked quickly over to her, his arms spread wide. She allowed him to kiss her, but the sentiment was quickly destroyed when she felt him push his hips against her and instantly harden. Lily's face flushed, and she stumbled backwards, struggling to get away; James was still little more than a teenage boy when it came to sexual maturity. If Sirius noticed anything amiss, he didn't let on. Instead, he made some quick goodbyes, patting Harry as he left, and rode away on his flying motorcycle.

"Dinner?" James and Harry said after a beat. Lily sighed and trudged mindlessly to the kitchen. James didn't pretend to want to help; he merely stayed with Harry, playing Keep Away with some odd toy that jingled every time it moved. At each little ring coming from the living room, Lily's hand clenched tighter around the wooden spoon she was using to meticulously stir the soup boiling in front of her. Years of Potions classes had taught her how to perform such motions automatically, without thought or feeling. Her mind flickered to her memories from the night before.

Severus Snape had been quiet while they chopped and squeezed and stirred ingredients for their potion. This was Severus's first time tweaking this particular potion—a complicated aging one that they had never learned in school—but Lily had read through his theory and could find nothing with which to argue. If anything, Severus seemed to have found a way to lengthen the effect of the potion, and if his calculations held true, they might even find a way to create a true aging potion—one that could fool even the strongest aging wards that a child was an adult. When all the ingredients were in the cauldron, and Severus had set the timer and a low fire, he turned to her and cocked an eyebrow.

The dueling had been fierce. Severus, now an adult and free of childish fancies toward her, never went easy on Lily. He moved his wand as if it were a whip; almost all of the spells he cast were dark and sinister, and his face was permanently etched into a furious, tense scowl. It took all of her stamina to keep ducking and weaving through the shots of color, let alone to cast reciprocating blows. Once and awhile, Severus would say things like, "Pathetic" and "You'll have to do better than that," which made Lily blush and work harder, despite the aching in her wrists. As always, Severus won by knocking her painfully onto her back. Lily had thought back to their days spent dueling at Hogwarts and couldn't help remembering that she used to win often; it pained her that this must only have been stemmed from Severus's love for her and not from some real talent on her part.

He walked by her form still lying on the ground. "It's ready now," he muttered, though the timer had yet to ring. Lily had the distinct impression that he had somehow managed to keep track of the time mentally, and her thoughts were confirmed when she heard the dull ding, so distant from the sad stretch of yard where she still lay.

Later, when they had finished testing the potion on a tadpole, Severus held the greenish liquid in a glass vial up against the light. Lily had stared at his profile under the guise of inspecting the potion too. Severus Snape was not and would never be attractive like Sirius, or even James. There was something resolutely ugly about him, and his greasy hair and the slight acne the still lingered from their Hogwartian days did little to help this fact. Add to all of this that he usually wore long, shapeless black robes that melded seamlessly with his shoulder-length black hair, and Severus became almost ghost-like—a terrifying white-faced apparition clothed in shadows.

But none of this had ever mattered to Lily where their friendship was concerned, and as they stood together in the dimly-lit room of his shabby house, Lily felt waves of affection crashing over and over across her heart. She had never, ever known anyone as innately intelligent as Severus, with the exception, perhaps, of Professor Dumbledore. Severus was dark and mysterious, defiant yet calm. But there was something there—some hidden, quiet power that lurked beneath his outward appearance. As she took in his long, hooked nose, his black eyes, his thin lips, she felt aroused. James and his friends were forever trapped as immature boys and Lily herself was practically a schoolgirl, but Severus was a man, had become one when she only blinked, and it made her want to touch his strong jaw, to feel the way his shoulders had broadened since she had last hugged him as a child.

A shout of laughter from the other room shook Lily from her reverie. She hadn't realized that, while one hand stirred the soup, the other had strayed to hover uncertainly between her legs. Her face turned bright red, and she quickly grabbed a large potato with both hands and began to chop. Never before had Lily had such an attraction to men; at school, she had prided herself on being above the silly gossip and giggling the other girls had engaged in. She had had Severus and spells and her books and her many female friends, and all of those things had been enough. Her only crush had been a Muggle boy in grade school, before she ever even knew she was a witch. This final revelation had put everything in perspective. How could she be expected to pay attention to the opposite sex when she had so many new things to learn?

It was only now—and again, she felt a rising anger toward her husband—that her sexual desires had become a constant source of frustration. She couldn't help feeling that it was all James's fault. His manners in the bedroom were lacking, sure, but even worse, he was terrible at _everything_. Lily didn't have the heart to tell him that his sloppy pawing and licking at her body, followed by the short period of unskilled thrusting with a disappointingly inadequate member, was nothing but a nuisance to her. Perhaps, if James weren't so dense, he would have caught on to his wife's blatant dissatisfaction in bed, but all any of their attempts had led to was an ever-growing feeling of sexual frustration for Lily. She had found herself making more and more excuses to keep from sleeping with him, often either citing her exhaustion from raising Harry or her desire to stay up late in the living room to 'finally get some reading in' before bed.

Lily began ladling soup into three medium-sized bowls, a frown etched into her pretty face. A part of her couldn't help uselessly wondering how her life might be different if she had not become pregnant. For one thing, she knew she would not be married or have children by now. At age twenty-five, she would barely have finished her apprenticeship under some such famous, knowledgeable wizard or witch. Her career would be open before her, full of endless possibilities. Lily could imagine standing in front of the Minister of Magic, proposing an amendment to some unfair law that favored the privileged over the underrepresented. Ever since learning Remus's secret in fifth year, she had adamantly wished to rectify the injustices against werewolves. Then, of course, there was the matter of the House Elves—or slaves, as Lily thought of the poor, bat-eared servants. And even more so, there was the secret, blush-inducing indignation over the small, daily prejudices against Muggleborns like herself. Even James sometimes seemed to find fault in her upbringing, often pointing to random, insignificant magical objects and explaining them as if she were an idiot for not knowing their name and purpose.

Severus, Lily noted, at least had been practically raised as a Muggle, even if his mother was a witch. He understood things that perplexed James, like electricity, television, and the microwave. She never had to dumb these things down for him, and their conversations, which wove seamlessly from Muggle to Wizard theories and back again, were better for it. It had been Severus, after all, who had introduced her to the Wizarding world, who had explained the Howarts houses, who had assured her that there was nothing wrong with being a Muggleborn. Every time he explained something, his words were slow and patient, completely devoid of judgment at her ignorance. It had been Severus who saw all of her faults and still loved her. James glossed over these things; even now, after nine years of marriage, he insisted on keeping her atop some imaginary pedestal. But Severus saw her quick temper, her extreme loyalty for her friends that teetered on the border of embarrassment, her obsessions with organization and studying, her total innocence and curiosity… Lily bit her lip so hard she tasted blood.


	5. Chapter 5

The Absence

Chapter 5

by The Conqueror Worm

**A/N: To clarify the timeline, Hermione moved to Godric's Hollow after her ninth birthday in September. Hermione is one year older than Harry in the books, I believe, and Lily got pregnant with him during her 7****th**** year at Hogwarts. This chapter is taking place during the end of September/the beginning of October.**

_'Yes, I am a fatal man. To inspire hopeless passion is my destiny.'_

-William Makepeace Thackeray

**llllll**

Hermione Granger sat on the lilac-carpeted floor of her new bedroom, reading a book Lily Potter had loaned her. Actually, Harry's mother seemed to have taken a great liking to Hermione and had lent her a total of five books to peruse until her next play date with Harry. She had been overjoyed at the chance to read up on the Wizarding world—something Lily had nodded understandingly at over tea. Here was a different side of her, an almost wild and dangerous side she didn't think possible, and the label of 'bookworm' her old classmates had flung at her like an insult no longer hurt.

At her last birthday party, her cousin had teased her for her unruly mane of hair, and ever since she'd accidentally set his hair on fire by magic, Hermione's life had changed for the better. For one thing, she no longer went to a Muggle elementary school. At the Ministry of Magic's Obliviators' suggestion, her family had uprooted to a village called Godic's Hollow. It had an all-Wizard area toward the West side, and Hermione's parents were joyfully in awe of everything they were learning while living in this secret world. Her mother had cut back on her hours at the dental practice her parents owned to home school Hermione on basic Muggle school subjects, like mathematics and reading. When her mother couldn't get away, Hermione was allowed to avidly study the textbooks and history tomes her parents had purchased from a Wizarding bookstore nearby. Hermione delighted in comparing the lies Muggles were told about history to the even more thrilling magical explanations.

The books Lily had lent her were of a different breed, and Hermione was careful not to allow her parents to see too much of their contents. For one thing, she was beginning to understand more and more that being a Muggleborn was not a favorable thing, and that perhaps the Ministry had advised her family's uprooting because of potential dangers from an anti-Muggle sentiment that was increasing in popularity. From the local newspapers, Hermione deduced there was a Dark Lord who was rapidly gaining power amongst Pureblood society, hunting down Muggles and Muggleborns at will. These were things Hermione felt her parents did not need to know or fully understand, and this sentiment made her weary. Lily had not touched much on this during their last conversation. In fact, if Hermione recalled, Harry's mother had been more grateful for another person to talk to, to complain about boys with. If it were not for Lily's kind words and good tea, Hermione would probably have insisted on avoiding another play date.

To be honest, Hermione had not cared for Harry at all. He was spoiled and rude, running around and screeching loudly about everything. When she had asked if he had a favorite book, he had thrown a biscuit at her and then ran to his father and the handsome man who he called, for some inexplicable reason, Padfoot. Hermione had thought this an odd and unlikely surname and had yet to come across it in any of the history sections of the aforementioned books from Lily.

Sighing, Hermione opened A Wizard Genealogy for the ninth time, running a thin finger down the P's in the Index. She felt her face flush as she reached 'Prewitt' with no sign of 'Padfoot' again. Hermione, for all her smarts, just couldn't quite figure out why it was so very important for her to figure out who the dark-haired man was. She desperately wanted to understand how his eyes could sparkle with joy and yet still contain so much sadness. She couldn't recall Harry's father's face at all, but she could easily have described each line of Padfoot's face, the exact shade of black his hair was, and the particularly sharp curve of his clavicle. Hermione blushed again and slammed the book shut.

As she tried to stand, the heavy tome slipped from her grasp and landed face down on her purple carpet. Hermione quickly stooped and picked it up, and there, shockingly, was the name for which she had been searching so desperately for days. On the top of the inside cover, written in a loopy, stuffy-looking script, was the name 'Sirius Black.' Below that, written in the scratchy writing of a teenage boy, 'aka Padfoot, who could not care less about this load of rubbish.'

And thus began Hermione Granger's secret, slow-burning obsession with one Sirius Black.

**llllll**

Hermione found herself sitting at Lily's dining room table once again. Harry's mother sat across from her, sighing about her days at Hogwarts. Her young companion noted that Lily's description seemed to stop after sixth year, but she was too distracted to dwell on this. Near her, perhaps only 20 feet away, Sirius Black was also sitting. Every part of her body seemed to be trained on the exact point where he must be, though she couldn't see him through the dining room door. Only the soft rumbling of men's laughter, punctuated by the squeaky giggles of a little boy, confirmed that he was still there. Hermione had been incredibly disappointed when Lily ignored her husband's invitation to join them, instead leading the girl by the hand to the dining room for tea. Hermione was fighting the urge to point out that she wasn't having a play date with Lily, but as she didn't want to spend more time than she had to with that spoiled brat, Harry Potter, it seemed better not to say anything.

Sirius Black had a barking laugh, short and loud, and Hermione jumped whenever the sound occurred. If Lily noticed, she didn't say anything. The tension in the room seemed to be growing as Lily droned on and on, and it finally broke when the dining room door swung open and the owner of the odd laugh strolled in with his hands casually tucked into his jacket's pockets.

"Hello, ladies," he drawled. Hermione could already feel an inexplicable and humiliating blush starting to grow all over her face and neck. Sharp stings of sweat began under her arms. Sirius turned his attention briefly on her before flickering back to Lily. "I don't suppose you've got more of those lemon biscuits, eh, Lils? And perhaps some coffee?"

Lily scoffed and rose, storming into the kitchen wordlessly. "Women," Sirius muttered before remembering Hermione. The girl was thin but tall for her age, with a large, bushy mop of brown hair that ran almost halfway down her back. She looked like an overgrown tree, and her brown jumper and slacks weren't doing anything to lessen this comparison. "Er, nice to meet you…again?" he said, stretching out a large hand toward her. He was pretty sure it was the same kid Harry had been complaining about a couple of weeks ago, but it was hard to tell. The fact that she wasn't speaking or even doing anything besides goggling up at him was also pretty disconcerting. Sirius sighed when she didn't take his hand. He barely tolerated children and had no desire for his own; Harry was okay, but only because he was his best friend's kid. Truth be told, James and Lily had done a pretty bad job as parents and had turned Harry into the sort of brat he'd always struggled not to be while growing up as a well-to-do Black.

"Um," the girl squeaked, making him jump. "Um, er, why…?" The girl was no longer looking up at him but staring at her lap, twisting her hands worriedly. "Um?"

"Yes?" Sirius said gently, though his patience was starting to evaporate. "Can I help you?"

"Um, why Padfoot? I mean… Well, what I mean is, why do they call you—"

Sirius cut her off. He didn't want to be here all day. "It's a nickname, of course." He was taken aback by the way her head snapped up suddenly; her face was twisted into a challenging scowl. He wasn't used to children having the capacity to be insulted; Harry never minded being talked down to. "It's because I'm an Animagus—a shape shifter. I can turn into a dog…" He studied the way Hermione's face seemed to pass from emotion to emotion. Surprise, awe, and more embarrassment flickered by in rapid succession.

Hermione already knew the answer to her next question, but she had to ask it. It seemed as if Sirius might leave again at any moment, and she wanted to delay that moment as much as possible. "But your real name is…?"

"Sirius Black." He extended his hand toward her again, and she shyly took it, pumping it gently up and down. He marveled at how small her hands were—freakishly small in comparison to his large ones. It must be so strange to be Lily, to hold a child's hand at the store and while walking down busy streets.

Hermione, meanwhile, was in heaven. He was touching her hand—_her _hand—and she couldn't help whispering, "Like the dog star." She knew this only because she had looked it up in the dictionary, trying to figure out why anyone would be named something so weird.

Sirius smiled warmly down at her, clasping her hand for a second longer. "Yes, like the star."

A loud crash and a shriek erupted suddenly from the living room. Sirius immediately dropped her hand and rushed quickly toward the noise, already pulling out his wand. "Honestly," she heard him sigh with exasperation a second later before the door swung shut behind him, blocking him from her view. Hermione sat quietly, staring at her hand. The warmth of his hand was leaving her skin too quickly, but she could still feel his strong grip, the outline of each of his fingers on her skin.

"…Don't know how many times I have to tell you, Harry," Lily was saying, leading a sniffling Harry into the dining room. "Don't run right in front of me when I'm carrying things." Harry had a large gash on his chin and a rug-burned elbow; there were large coffee splatters all over his yellow shirt.

"Weren't you watching where you were going?" James asked, following closely behind. His tone was light, not accusatory, but Lily shot him a cold glare anyway.

"He's only four feet tall, James. I can't see through tea trays."

"Can I still have some cookies?" Harry whined, tripping over his own untied sneakers. He rubbed at the gash at his chin, smearing blood across his cheek. Hermione felt nauseous. Boys were so weird.

"Not after they've been on the floor! Who knows what dirt is on that floor?" Lily paused, realizing how much she sounded like her sister. "And you're hurt. Let's get some ointment," she finished a little more calmly.

"But I want cookies! And the oi'ment stings! And…and…" Harry wailed, beginning a temper tantrum.

From the doorway, Sirius met Hermione's brown eyes, rolling his gray ones in her direction. She gave him a shaky grin, but he could see her level of discomfort rising as Lily, James, and Harry shouted over each other, each acting like a child. He vaguely remembered Lily saying the girl was also from Godric's Hollow. Well, no reason for either one of them to sit through this disaster. "Do you want me to take her home, Lily?" he shouted over Harry's screams of 'I want ice cream too!'

"What?" Lily stopped to stare at him quizzically. He could see the blatant hesitation in her eyes, and gave her a hard, firm stare back. 'What the hell is that supposed to mean?' he wondered. He was perfectly capable of walking the girl home. "I don't know." She glanced over her shoulder at Hermione, who was already scrambling to pick up the heavy pile of new books Lily was loaning her and get off of her tall chair at the same time.

"Yes," Hermioned breathed, her eyes shining out of a very red face. "I should go. He can take me; I'll be fine."

Lily looked as if she doubted this very much, but she sighed as Harry let out another wail and James started cooing at him, promising some ice cream in place of the cookies. "She lives right down the street, at number 20. I'll call in a bit to check she got home okay." At this last part, she was careful not to meet Sirius's eyes. It's not that she distrusted him, per se, but she did have reservations about a grown man walking a little girl home. Sirius had always seemed rather harmless, though, and he'd reluctantly babysat Harry a few times and managed not to burn the house down or anything.

As soon as they were outside of the Potter's home, both Hermione and Sirius let out a sigh of relief. It was fall, and the chilly air had the sweet, smoky scent that comes from many people using their fireplaces. The wind whipped a few brown leaves past them. Hermione's hair was pushed to-and-fro by the strong gusts, but she had never felt so happy and carefree. Sirius looked down at her. "Er, 20, right?" The girl smiled up at him, nodding. Now, if he remembered correctly, the 20s were to the right. Or was it the left? He studied the houses across the street, trying to figure out the pattern, but Hermione's voice broke his concentration.

"Is that yours?" she asked, struggling to hold her pile of books and point with one finger toward his flying motorcycle.

"Yup." He nodded while stooping down to scoop the pile of book from her arms. "I can carry these for you." This offer immediately conjured up Muggle movies in Hermione's head; a tall girl with a long, blonde ponytail and a short school skirt walked along with her boyfriend as he carried her books, smiling at her as if this was the best thing ever. She glanced up at Sirius hopefully, but he was no longer looking at her. Instead, a grim expression was etched into his face as he stared down at one of her books. Guiltily, Hermione realized it was the Wizards' Genealogy book she had previously borrowed from Lily. She had returned it to Lily, but when the latter's back was turned, she couldn't stop herself from stealing it back and slipping it into her pile of new books. It was the worst thing she had ever done, especially as she had no intention of returning it and planned to feign innocence if Lily asked. But the loss of his scratchy handwriting seemed too great.

"This book," Sirius began slowly, and her heart began hammering loudly in her chest. Did he know somehow? "You know you shouldn't pay too much attention to this crap. My parents and some of those other snobs like to act as if blood is the most important thing, but it's not." He stared firmly into her large brown eyes. "It's just not." Hermione nodded solemnly and was relieved when his stern expression broke into a grin. "So, how would you like to ride on my motorcycle on your way home?"

**lllllll**

**A/N: I almost forgot to post this chapter today; luckily, the wonderfully kind reviews from Harmonic Friction (go read **_**Not a Fairytale**_**!) reminded me that I'm writing a fanfic in between all those college essays. I originally posted a very short version of this chapter, but then I realized something is off with my timeline later on in the story, so I grabbed a future chapter and tacked it on. Let me know if there's some glaring inconsistency I missed in the process. The Hermione-Sirius subplot actually weaves in and directly influences the Lily/Snape one, if anyone's wondering. Also, I would never, **_**ever**_** let some guy take a little girl home without asking her mother first; get it together, Lily! :D Finally, let me just mention that the next chapter, starring Lily, is very M-rated. I'm a little worried about it, actually. See you all Thursday.**


	6. Chapter 6

The Absence

Chapter 6

by The Conqueror Worm

"_I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;  
>I lift my lids and all is born again.<br>(I think I made you up inside my head.)"_

_-Sylvia Plath_

**lllll**

Lily lay in bed, listening to the soft snores of James next to her. He was always so insistent, even in sleep, on clinging tightly to her, wrapping his entire body around hers, but thankfully, she had managed to wiggle away for now. An hour before, she and James had had sex, and Lily now lay naked underneath the sheets, feeling wholly unsatisfied. What was wrong with her husband? Or was it her? She had never slept with another man before, nor did she now have any friends to talk to about this sort of thing. Perhaps there was something wrong with her, and she should be fulfilled by her and James's sex life. She shifted her legs, and another wave of frustrating arousal shot through her entire body.

Sighing, Lily turned and looked at James, studying his sleeping form. Without glasses, she could truly notice his long nose and thick eyelashes. He seemed blissful and satisfied, a small smile playing about his thin lips. Oh God, it _was_ her, wasn't it? It was her fault for being so not in love with her own husband that she shied away from his touch and avoided his loving stare. Any other woman would be overjoyed that their husband was so romantically in love with them after eight years of marriage, and here she was, in their bed, feeling nothing but loathing for both of them. She could feel tears well up and sting her eyes as she thought this, and she quickly turned her head to stare at the ceiling again. When she moved her legs again, another wave of arousal passed through her, and she let out a low groan of annoyance.

Quickly, she slid out of bed and pulled on her t-shirt from earlier. Lily stole a glance over her shoulder at James, but he didn't open his eyes. Relieved, she quickly padded out of the room and toward the hall closet. This hadn't been her original plan when she arose, but instinctively, she opened the door and reached behind the old blankets to pull out a box. It was stuffed with various mementos from her youth, and on top, there lay a bundle of pictures from her last few years at Hogwarts, along with a few from a couple years after. She sat on the prickly carpet and pulled out the lot.

Severus had distanced himself from her after learning she was pregnant, but on Graduation Day, he had obliged her mother's request to pose for a few pictures. Lily stared down at her copies of those photos, running a trembling finger over Snape's thin frame. In almost every one, he had the same expression—grim and stern, glaring bitterly at either the camera or the fact that Lily, now bearing a very noticeable belly, had her arm draped over his hunched shoulders.

Of the ones from more recent years, they were only from small articles featuring him in _The Daily Prophet_ and _Potions Today_. There had been buzz about a young, brilliant Potions apprentice who had modified a few famous potions for the better. She stared at these for longer, seeing more of the Severus she knew now. He was more self-assured, no longer awkward or soft in any way, and he stared back at the camera coldly, his photo blinking or raising an eyebrow periodically. Lily stared back at him, sinking slowly into the dark pools of his eyes. Before she knew what she was doing, her hand was already between her legs, stroking. Instantly, she stopped, blushing furiously and frantically looking around the hallway for any sign of James or Harry, but the house was completely silent around her. A few shivers ran threw her as she looked back at the pictures spread out on the carpet around her. He was staring at her, looking right at her. One of the photos smirked slightly. 'This is what I need,' she thought, and began stroking again, biting her bottom lip to keep from crying out.

When she was done, she gathered all of the pictures into a pile and flung them into the box. Her entire body was shaking, and a panicky guilt made her rush to hide the evidence. Quickly, she ran to the bathroom to clean up and wash her hands. How would she make breakfast for her family tomorrow morning with these same hands? How could she stare across the table at her husband while knowing that, the night before, she had touched herself and fantasized that a man who he hated had been doing it instead? Careful to avoid her own eyes in the mirror, she hurried back to her bedroom and slid into bed next to James. Instantly, he roused enough to pull her into his arms. Lily sighed but let him.

**llllll**

Over the next few nights, Lily continuously woke in the middle of the night and crept back to the closet to stare at the pictures. As if this was not enough, during the next few times James had made love to her, she had imagined it was Severus who was kissing her, Severus who was stroking her hair as he moved between her legs. This had, unfortunately, done little to make sex with James more enjoyable, but it had begun to serve as foreplay for the time she could spend fantasizing about Severus while touching herself. The time she spent crouching in the hallway, staring at his pictures, began to increase from fifteen minutes, to thirty, to an hour. James and Harry never awoke, never caught her. The longer she was able to get away with it, the harder it was to pull herself away from the pleasure. It became so that she was becoming frustrated again because her fantasies were not the same as if Severus were truly there.

Lily moaned loudly and instantly stiffened, her eyes adjusting to the dim light of the hallway as fear overwhelmed her, but nothing stirred in response. She closed her eyes again, picturing again how Severus would speak quietly in his deep voice to her. He'd kiss along her neck, the tip of his nose following in his mouth's wake. His long fingers would slide over her skin, and at some point, he would use his nails to claw slowly, torturously at her back.

Lily whimpered as she came, curling herself into a ball. Hot tears flowed down her cheeks, sliding onto her knees. It was getting bad; she was losing it. Her days were now filled with restless anxiousness for the night to arrive; she'd barely registered one word James or Harry had said to her the last few days. In just two weeks, she had let her imagination turn into an obsession with a man who practically despised her. If Severus knew of what she had doing, had been thinking lately about him, he would be disgusted and furious. She could just see him, clenching his teeth while his face went white and spit flew from his fast-moving lips. 'How dare you! When you're married to _him,_' he'd say. He would really never forgive her then.

She whimpered for a different reason as she leaned her head back against the wall. A terrible idea was occurring to her, and before she knew what she was doing, she was on her feet, heading toward where her pet owl was perched in the kitchen. The pale light of dawn was shining through the window as she furiously scribbled a note on a spare piece of parchment.

After Lily sent the letter, she instantly regretted it. Her reasoning had been to invite him over in order to see that she was merely using his image to fulfill something lacking in her life at the moment. Once she saw Severus in the flesh, she'd remember the bitterness in his voice instead of the low seductiveness she'd been imagining; she'd see that he looked at her with contempt, not the slow-burning lust she hoped for. But inwardly, in a part of her mind that always told the truth, Lily knew that this was not why she had written the letter, inviting him over on a night she knew James would be gone, tending to Remus. She knew it was because she wanted her fantasies to be real.

**llllll**

**A/N: *nervous laugh* Er, so what did everyone think of this chapter? I hope it seems to fit in with the rest of the story quite well, and I didn't turn any one off from further reading. I wrote a future chapter before this one and I really loved how it turned out, but in order for it to make sense, I had to build up to it with something. So, voil****à****. **


	7. Chapter 7

The Absence

Chapter 7

by The Conqueror Worm

"_Having two identities for yourself is an example of a lack of integrity."_

-Mark Zuckerberg

**lllllll**

At the ding of a bell, Severus looked up from where he was stocking rat eyes. Regulus Black strode in to the cramped, dimly-lit apothecary, looking as grim as ever in his dark gray robes. The color was incredibly flattering to Regulus's stormy eyes, but such things were not worthy of Snape's notice. The latter nodded at his friend before turning his attention back to the rat eyes. "Busy as ever, eh, Snape?" Regulus drawled, the cold amusement he felt toward working class people badly suppressed. Severus could hear the obnoxious snicker in his voice. What did Regulus know? Thanks to his parents, he'd never had to work and still had a few more years floating along on their sickle before he had to pick some high-end façade of a Ministry job that basically involved taking long lunches with other rich brats.

Regulus rolled his eyes when Snape made no move to answer. "Listen, Lucius is hosting a party for some of the close family and friends on Halloween night. Don't make plans, okay?" Snape quietly snorted at the idea of him ever being social enough to do so, but Regulus ignored him. "Lucius and Narcissa expect you to be there, and Draco has been asking after his Godfather, Cissy said."

Snape scoffed. "I already know, Regulus. Lucius is capable of sending an owl." Regulus narrowed his eyes at his tone. Even if Snape was a close friend, there was certainly no reason for a Half Blood to contradict a Pureblood. "You have a tendency to never receive such things. I can only assume that is the reason, as you've missed the last three gatherings your friends have held.

Severus sighed, abandoning the inventory he was supposed to be taking. "I have to work, Reg. I can't spend my days lounging around people's mansions. And anyways…" Here he felt his heartbeat quicken and he dared not look over at Regulus Black. "…There seems to have been an implication recently toward attending such things."

"For what?" Regulus snapped, but he was only feigning his defensiveness.

Severus turned to meet his eyes at last, black boring into gray. His expression was cross. "Will that man be there? That alleged Dark Lord?" When Regulus didn't reply, Snape's expression blackened considerably. "I told you I have no interest in it, Regulus."

Snape was not one for long speeches, and Regulus knew there was nothing more he could say to sway him. That didn't stop him from trying, though. "Is this what your life is going to be like, Snape? He waved his hands at the rat eyes and dung beetles. "Is this all you ever plan to amount to?"

Severus glowered at his friend's mocking sneer. "I've only just finished my apprenticeship under Melinda. I'll be an official Potion's Master soon enough."

Regulus snorted softly in disbelief. "You'd be better off teaching Potions!" he exclaimed. "I have yet to hear of a well-to-do Potions Master."

"Oh, but you have heard of supposed Dark Lords, have you?" Snape said quietly and with no emotion. This was the one thing that Regulus admired his friend for—the ability to be utterly apathetic. Regulus always had some expression on his face; he could never be as inscrutable as Severus Snape. "End of conversation, Reg." He turned his attention to a barrel of dried bat wings, his back to Regulus.

Black sighed, defeated. "Just come to the party, Snape. No strings attached. Just to show you're still friends with everyone." Severus's cheek twitched involuntarily at the words. He had never planned to stay in touch with anyone from school. Those seven years had only been slightly less miserable than his childhood, thanks to Potter and his gang. As both of his parents were now dead, it was quite easy to avoid them, but unfortunately, working in Knockturn Alley had only made him an easy target for any classmates wishing to stay connected to him. Truth be told, he preferred being alone, working all the time, inventing new Potions and spells by night. He felt no interest in other people and their desires or problems.

Severus shifted his weight and felt the letters in his robe's pocket brush against his thigh. One was the aforementioned invite for Lucius's party. The other was from Lily, inviting him over on October 27th to brainstorm new potions to alter. Snape scoffed at the idea. He had only grudgingly agreed to Lily's invite after demanding that the child be put away before his arrival and that Lily make good on her promise of pumpkin tarts. Lily, while capable of making Potions perfectly, was a dunce when it came to innovation. She served only as a helping hand when he needed it, which was hardly ever. He now felt only apathy, sometimes disgust, toward her and could not decipher why he allowed her to be near him; the only explanation seemed to be that it had been a life-long habit that he had never broken when he should have, just as smoking had become ever since he'd learned of her pregnancy with James Potter's child.

Snape sneered. The 27th, he knew, was the night of the full moon. Even though years had passed since he had discovered the truth to the mystery that was Remus Lupin, Severus still couldn't break his habit of keeping track of the moon's cycle. James must be out cavorting with his other moronic friends, blatantly putting the innocents of the world at risk.

"Fine, I'll come," he said dismissively over his shoulder, not meeting Regulus's eye. Black smirked, triumphant, and left without another word. He knew better than to push his luck. As soon as he was outside, on the nearly deserted street of Knockturn Alley, he paused to absentmindedly touch his left forearm. It still stung, even though it had been weeks since he'd been marked. The Dark Lord had yet to call on him to participate in one of the inner-circle's meetings, but he had been told to recruit new members who were worthy of their cause. If things fell into place correctly, he may be able to sway Snape to join. The Dark Lord had been especially interested in the idea of a loyal, skilled Potion's Master, especially as there were rumors that Slughorn would soon be vacating his post at Hogwarts. Regulus closed his eyes briefly, becoming beautiful and statuesque in a way he did not realize nor could his relatives ever achieve. A strangled shriek further down the alley made him jump and quickly move on, casting one last dark glance over his shoulder. He could never shake the feeling of being watched.

**llllll**

**A/N: First, thank you thank you thank you for the lovely reviews! I'm sorry I haven't replied; I've been swamped with so much homework lately, but it's always nice to know people are reading and enjoying the story. Second, my review schedule is usually twice a week, on Mondays and Thursdays, so check back for updates around then.**


	8. Chapter 8

The Absence

Chapter 8

by The Conqueror Worm

"_Evil is unspectacular and always human, _

_and shares our bed and eats at our own table.__"_

_-W. H. Auden_

**llllll**

Narcissa opened the door to find Regulus, swathed in elegant black robes embroidered with silver. "Oh, hello, Reg," she said, pulling him into a warm hug. For herself, Narcissa wore light blue robes that matched her eyes, and Regulus couldn't help feeling the protective affection he always did when he hugged her thin frame. While Bellatrix was wild and fun in a way Regulus admired, it was Narcissa's quiet kindness that won his heart. "Lucius is still in the garden with Draco, I believe, and Bella should be here soon."

"Excellent." He followed his cousin into the house and made his way to the doorway leading to the garden. Through open double doors, he could see a very blonde man and little boy laughing. Draco was running around on the cobble stones, chasing and leaping at butterflies that Lucius had presumably conjured, as there were a shocking number of the winged insects flying around the pair.

"No fair!" Draco whined when another butterfly flew out of his reach. "Dad, make it stay still."

Lucius smiled warmly down at his pouting son. "Now, Draco, I hardly see the fun in it for me if I do that," he told him, but his teasing didn't last long. He stooped down to lift Draco in his arms and helped him catch a butterfly. As soon as his son succeeded, though, he told him to free it so they could appreciate watching it fly around.

Regulus and Narcissa stood in the doorway a minute, watching the scene before them. Regulus could see part of her face, and she was smiling gently, clearly happy. Instantly, Regulus felt bad for feeling so incredibly unhappy in comparison. Not that he didn't wish the best for Narcissa; she had lived in a dreary house under demanding, cold parents and deserved a nice family of her own now. It was only that he had yet to find such satisfaction in anything. Even if he had been the golden boy for his parents, at Hogwarts Sirius still exuded a certain amount of charm that made him stand out, as did the Black sisters. Regulus had been Pureblood, sure, but amongst others of his kind, he was incredibly unremarkable. An adequate Seeker, an average student, an average-looking boy. That had been his main motivation in joining the Death Eaters when Lucius asked; finally, he would have somewhere where he fit unequivocally, where everyone appreciated that he was talented and worthwhile. Amongst Death Eaters, he would be appreciated as braver than others, ruthless yet poised, and many would bow before him. Or at least, this is what the Dark Lord had told him he craved while looking through his mind. Truth be told, Regulus wasn't entirely sure that description fit him at all; he was kind in many respects, as long as others were kind to him, and thus, he was quite loyal. But cruel? No, that had been the rest of the family's prerogative. He simply wanted someone to make a decision about what he should do with his life because he quite honestly had no idea.

Lucius turned, smiling, and caught the pair staring at him and his son from the doorway. "Oh, hello, Regulus," he called, walking back toward the house. His silk green robes rippled around his legs, and the wind playfully lifted sections of his hair as he moved, making it seem as if his entire head was glowing in the sunlight. Draco shot past him, gleefully screeching at the sight of Regulus, who caught the small boy and lifted him up. These were, perhaps, the best moments of Regulus's life. With Draco in his arms, excitedly explaining his new toy broom and Snitch, and the Malfoy parents looking on affectionately, he felt as if his life was calm and complete. Far away from the public expectations of Purebloods, these were the times when nothing seemed particularly sad or empty about him, and he could feel as if he belonged in a warm space in other people's hearts.

Bellatrix, in all her insane glory, tended to shatter these moments quite effectively. "Ah, there's my dear sister and her family. And here I thought no one was home since we had only a House Elf to greet us at the door," she sniped from behind Regulus. He frowned and quickly set Draco down, who stayed oddly still, frowning at his aunt's tone. However, as soon as Bellatrix beckoned, the small blonde boy quickly obeyed, planting a peck on each of her cheeks at her request.

"Bella," Narcissa said, smiling as she held out her hands to her sister, though her eyes remained cold and judgmental. "I didn't hear you knock. We were just admiring my husband from afar." Narcissa let out a little laugh, which made Bellatrix frown.

"Surely, you don't mean Lucius," Bellatrix snapped, curling a lip in Lucius's direction. It made her normally dark, beautiful features look quite terrifying. She had held a grudge against him ever since he had requested to change his arranged marriage from Bellatrix to her little sister in their sixth year.

"And where is _your_ husband?" Lucius sniped back, giving his sister-in-law a murderous glare to match her own.

"I'm here," a deep voice called from the hall. Rodolphus Lestrange, followed by his brother, Rabastan, emerged from the direction of the front door, carrying a bottle of brandy. The pair had a sort of wild, foreign look about them, each sporting too-long dark hair and rugged beards. "Bella sent me back for the alcohol," Rodolphus explained. "Apparently, it's not up to Black standards to not bring something for the hosts." There was a biting sort of tone on the word 'Black,' which possibly had something to do with Bellatrix refusing to take his surname when they married.

Narcissa waved a hand. "Oh, Bella, don't be ridiculous." Seeing how Bellatrix instantly angered at her last word, Narcissa quickly rushed on. "It's only an informal sort of get together. You don't have to bring anything just to visit your family. We love your company either way." Lucius looked as if he wanted to argue with that sentiment, but he held his tongue, opting to continue glaring at Bellatrix instead.

"Well, alcohol helps every occasion," Bellatrix sniffed. "Father said that," she added when Narcissa didn't respond.

Draco stood slightly in front of his mother, watching the exchange between the two sisters solemnly. Regulus followed suit, and continued to remain quiet during the course of the meal and after. Only when the conversation turned from costume themes for the Malfoy's impending Halloween party to the guest list did he look up from his coq au vin. "Well, I know for sure Snape is coming," he said, sipping quietly at some of the brandy Bellatrix had forced him to take.

Bellatrix opened her mouth and then quickly closed it, torn between indignation at a Half Blood's company and the knowledge that her beloved Lord Voldemort desired his presence. Narcissa and Draco made affirmations of happiness, and Lucius brightened. "How do you know? He has yet to reply to my invite."

"You know Snape," Regulus said, resting his ankle on his other leg's knee. "God forbid he actively participate in anything social. But he told me when I visited him a couple of weeks ago. And if he doesn't show up, I'll hunt him down and drag him here myself!"

Bellatrix cackled at the image. "Can I help?"

Regulus ignored her. "You said that Lord Voldemort will be at the party, right, Lucius? I've been wanting to speak to him about Snape, but I haven't been summoned in ages."

Lucius nodded. "He plans to attend. That's right; I'd forgotten you weren't at the last meeting."

"Well, of course not!" Bellatrix interrupted, prompting an annoyed hiss from Lucius. "No offense, Reg, but Lord Voldemort just trusts some of us more right now. You have to _earn_ your place in the inner circle."

Regulus cast a wary glance at Bellatrix in reply before turning his attention back to Lucius. Years of putting up with Bellatrix's insane rants had taught him to simply ignore her whenever possible. "And how do I go about that, exactly?" he asked Lucius, though he already had a vague idea about it.

Lucius quelled Bellatrix's imminent interruption with a firm glare. "There are ways you can show your commitment, Regulus, but you have to be invited first. You've already been marked, so that's a good start. If you convince Snape to join, that will be even better. The Dark Lord is looking for someone to take a post at Hogwarts as a spy, and Snape would be perfect."

Regulus nodded solemnly, though he still didn't look quite convinced. "Well, Lucius, Severus always did look up to you in a remarkable way when we were kids. Can I count on you to help me convince him?"

"_I _bet Ican convince him," Bellatrix trilled while pouring herself another large glass of brandy. She ignored her husband's disapproving frown; Bellatrix had some methods of persuasion that clashed quite heavily with her marriage vows. Or at least, this was the impression he had received from the Dark Lord since Bellatrix had instantly joined the inner circle without seemingly trying.

"Yes, thank you for the offer, Bella," Regulus sighed, though his grey eyes were still locked on Lucius's blue ones. "But I really think we have to tread carefully around Snape. He's too intelligent to be tricked into anything, and he's too ornery to be forced into anything he doesn't want to do. It was difficult enough to get him to agree to come to the party. We'll just have to stroke his ego enough that he wants to join." He ignored Bella's cry of 'Wants to join? It's an honor to be asked!' and opted for watching Narcissa leave the room, a sleeping Draco in her arms. "The real problem, Lucius," he continued. "Is that he still hangs around with that Muggleborn girl, Lily Evans, though I suppose it's Lily Potter now. She has a kid with that Potter guy and everything, but he still can't let go."

Lucius frowned while silently accepting more brandy from Rodolphus. "Still? I would have thought after she was married to another man he would have let that little crush go."

"I'm not sure why," Regulus sighed. "I don't even think he understands why he still sees her, but I know he does. I've seen her stopping by the apothecary to visit him quite often. He always sends me away, as if _I _embarrass _him_."

For a moment, they were all quiet, contemplatively sipping at their drinks. Rabastan, who had not spoken a word all night, finally broke the silence. "Well, if I were the Dark Lord," he began in a rasping whisper that instantly drew everyone's full attention. "I'd simply promise to kill the husband and kid and give him the girl in exchange for his loyalty. Isn't that what he wants anyway?" Everyone stared at Rabastan, lost in their own thoughts, until Narcissa returned and brought up costume length standards to Bellatrix. As the women prattled on, Lucius briefly met Regulus's eyes and nodded briefly.

**llllll**

**A/N: Why are the Death Eaters saying 'Lord Voldemort' here? Well, I picture Voldy seeming quite charming in the early days of his reign (see Book 6). It was only when he started asking more and more of them, with dire consequences for refusing, that the Death Eaters really started to adopt a true tone of respect and fear. Oh, and next chapter's quite good, if I do say so myself. Look for it next Monday!**


	9. Chapter 9

The Absence

Chapter 9

by The Conqueror Worm

"_As if a woman ever loved a man for his virtue."_

-The Painted Veil

**llllll**

Severus stepped into the Potters' warm, cozy living room. Perhaps it was the abject poverty he had grown up in, but there was something about other people's houses that he despised. He still preferred the coldness of stone, of rooms bare of anything but convenient furniture, and though he held terrible memories and resentment toward his childhood home on Spinner's End, he still preferred the dank loneliness of it. The fact that he could see framed photographs of the Potters, colorful toys carelessly strewn in one corner, and even worse, if possible, a tea cozy on a nearby table, made him instantly regret his decision to come. Lily stood before him, smiling nervously and wringing her hands. It occurred to Snape that he had never been here before; they usually met at his house.

Lily took a step toward him. "Er, so I made some food, if you'd like to eat first…" Snape frowned instantly. To sit and eat at _their_ table, perhaps with an empty highchair squeezed in between the two of them, sounded like torture.

"Do you even have a cauldron?" He said instead, looking around with a judgmental sneer. Lily and James had collected an odd mixture of Muggle and Wizard inventions. In between the moving photographs, stationary pictures of the Evans family and Lily as a child stood out. A television sat in one corner of the living room, complete with a VCR, but a magical radio was perched precariously on the mantel of the chimney nearby. Through the propped open kitchen door, he could make out the side of a refrigerator covered with magnets, and just past that, a sponge was bewitched to finish cleaning the pots and pans on its own.

Lily went strangely rigid, her eyes glazed. "Um, perhaps, in the cellar…" She was already walking away, toward a side door in the kitchen. In her absence, Severus was torn between looking at everything, greedily consuming the hidden details of Lily's life as he once had, and not looking at anything if he could help it. Briefly, he let himself wonder what their house would have looked like if they had been married instead, but a toy broomstick caught his eye and quickly ruined the thought. He couldn't understand how Lily Evans's life had turned into one meant for stuffy, untalented girls like her awful sister. Lily, who had been so exceptional, who had consumed almost every moment of his life until eight years ago, was now a housewife and mother. She'd once scoffed at the idea of either.

_"I want to be a famous researcher or writer or something, Sev. I can't imagine being a mom. It'd be so boring. I don't even know if I want to get married."_ When she'd said those last few words, he had flushed and gritted his teeth. His own parents tense, abusive relationship had marred the image of marriage for him, but the thought that such a thing was off the table…Well, he had reasoned, at least if he couldn't have her, no one ever would. Of course, this was now untrue. Instead of him, Lily had married his worst enemy and bore a son that was, if the pictures held true, the perfect combination of both Lily and James Potter.

His black eyes flickered toward the door. Perhaps he could just leave, walk away from the current of electricity and stifled hope that Lily Evans still incited in him. If he just left and went home, he could easily dodge her, ignore her letters, hide in the back room if she came to the Apothecary. Perhaps that would be for the best—for both of them to stop pretending that anything resembling friendship still existed between them, to just give up.

Meanwhile, Lily stood in the cellar, looking hopelessly around at the junk she and James had managed to accumulate over the past eight years. Broken quills and loose pieces of parchment stuck out from haphazard piles of books, battered racing brooms, and other unidentifiable and poorly cared for odds and ends. Carefully, from among two trunks and double sets of seven years-worth of school books, she extracted a pewter cauldron. A thin crack ran along the side from when James had dropped it down the cellar stairs, but Lily easily repaired it with her wand.

For a moment, she stood frozen, grasping the edge of the cauldron so tightly that her knuckles shown white. Something was clearly, painfully familiar about standing before it. Lily could remember all her years at Hogwarts, how hopeful she had been, how she and Sev had delighted in partnering up whenever they had Potions together. That was when James had been nothing but a daily nuisance and she had still had a good friend who cared about her. Longingly, Lily looked up at the rectangle of light leading out the cellar. Upstairs, Severus was standing, probably judgmentally declaring her life pathetic as if she were no one special from his past. That was what Lily missed the most about her life at Hogwarts—the belief that she was exceptional. It was a thought that Severus had instilled in her, and without him to actively maintain it, to constantly encourage her, she had lost any hope of its truth.

Severus turned and strode toward the front door, determined to walk away from Lily once and for all, when a small, whiny voice asked, "Who are you?" Snape whipped around, his wand foolishly in his hand as he came face to face with a small boy. The child had unruly black hair sticking up from all directions, and he was squinting his large green eyes into thin slits, as if he couldn't see very well. When Snape didn't immediately answer, tears started welling up in the boy's eyes. "Where's my mom? Mom? _MOM_?" It was, quite possibly, one of the worst moments of Snape's adulthood. He had always hated crying, had despised himself for the brief moments of his life when he deserved the nickname 'Snivellus,' and could never stomach it when others displayed such emotions. Now, he had to endure the sight of a mini-James Potter wailing; it was oddly unsatisfying and repulsive. It was also incredibly obnoxious.

Snape's face adopted a nasty sneer. "I killed her, of course. What do you think I'm cooking?" Okay, admittedly, that was not one of his better moments. He realized this as soon as the boy screamed and burst into hysterical tears. In his defense, he had told Lily to make sure the child was put away. Still, he did feel a mild twinge of guilt as Lily came rushing into the living room, angrily pushing the cauldron she was levitating out of her way.

Once she confirmed that Harry was unharmed, she picked him up and carried him away toward his bedroom. The boy clung to her, trying to speak through his heavy tears and pointing accusatorily at Snape over her shoulder. A few minutes later, she returned, sighing heavily. "He seems to have gotten the impression that you killed me and were cooking my corpse for dinner."

Severus was careful to arrange his features into an unreadable mask. "Really? What an odd child you have." Here, he curled his lip. "He seems to take after his father quite a bit."

He had meant this as a biting insult and fully expected Lily to become cross and defend her family. Instead, she hugged her arms around herself and looked away. "He's a lot like James, I guess." They let a moment pass in silence before Lily spoke again. "Should we get started on your potion, then?" More out of confusion than anything else, he let her lead him to the dining room.

**llllll**

Two hours later, Lily was coughing as smoke billowed out of the melted cauldron. He honestly didn't know what had gone wrong. His calculations and theory were flawless; he looked over at Lily, who was struggling to quickly vanish the mess through the smoke. Severus had tried to watch her closely, but he could only think it must somehow be her fault—perhaps she had not used enough berry juice during the third step or the fire had not been as hot as she said. Either way, he was already planning to try the potion again in his own home, without her.

"I don't understand," Lily said, now trying to vanish some of the smoke with her wand. "Everything was perfect." When Severus didn't reply, she tried to adopt an upbeat tone, but it fell flat. "Well, next time, maybe. Your theory was perfect, you know." Severus continued to stare contemplatively at the spot where the melted cauldron had been, but she couldn't help feeling he was avoiding her eyes. "Er, do you want to duel for a bit before you go?"

At last, he turned to look at her. "I'll pass."

When he turned to leave, she involuntarily grabbed at him, catching his shoulder with a harder grip than she meant to. "Wait. Stay for awhile. James won't be home until morning and—"

"I'm not a substitute for your husband, Lily!" he snapped, awkwardly twisting against her grasp to glare at her.

"I know that. That's not what I meant, Sev. I just…" Her eyes flickered all over his features as she released him. "It's just that I made all that food, including those pumpkin tarts. Surely you're a little hungry?"

Even though they had drifted so severely apart from one another, Lily could still read something in his black eyes. He was clearly struggling with his emotions. At last, guilt or apathy seemed to win out. "Alright. Let's eat in front of the T.V., though." He cast an oddly contemptuous glare at the kitchen table before walking through the door leading to the living room. He found a mindless sitcom while Lily gathered everything in the kitchen, warming it with her wand before bringing it to him.

When she finally joined him, she was levitating two plates piled high with turkey, mashed potatoes, and green beans, a third plate bearing pumpkin tarts, two glasses, and a bottle of red wine. "I'm not sure if it's any good. It was pretty cheap," she apologized when he immediately snatched the bottle of wine and a glass from the air, ignoring the food completely. He was going to need some form of alcohol if he was going to continue sitting here for another minute. Severus was already on his second glass by the time Lily had come around to the front of the couch and set everything on the coffee table before them.

**llllll**

They were now on their second bottle of wine, having watched the crummy sitcom, the news, and almost half of a made-for-TV movie. Severus had eaten too many pumpkin tarts and felt a little sick, especially as he had drunk so much wine. Lily poured herself another glass and silently offered the bottle to him, but he shook his head. He couldn't remember the last time either of them had spoken, nor had he taken in anything they had watched on television. The awkwardness of the situation eclipsed everything, and the wine had barely numbed that fact.

"I'm glad you stayed, Sev," Lily mumbled after another ten minutes. Her voice was quieter than normal, and there was a slight slur on the 'S' of his name. "I know you didn't want to."

He sighed through his large nose before finishing off the last of the wine in his glass. "Where do I fit into your life anymore, Lily?" he said harshly in response. The alcohol had made him shockingly brave all of a sudden, and inwardly, a part of his mind was hissing in horror at his words.

"Sev…"

His earlier thoughts seemed to be racing around his tipsy mind, and he couldn't stop them slipping out. "No, really, Lily. Where do I fit? I'm not your little lapdog anymore. I'm not your friend. Hell, I'm not even your husband's enemy anymore. I see no reason for us to be around each other. We could really just walk away now, and what would it matter?"

Lily reached out a hand to him, setting it on his leg. "It would matter to me, Sev. _You_ matter to me. I couldn't stand…" she paused for a moment, pursing her wine-stained lips. "I couldn't stand to not be around you ever again. Even if things have changed, I don't want them to."

"Lily," he said tensely. He had barely registered the meaning of her words because of the horrifying realization that her hand had landed on his upper thigh, her fingers draped dangerously close to his crotch. She didn't seem to notice this at all, but his entire body had at once; small jolts of horror, lust, and humiliation were coursing through his entire body. He felt as if he were a teenager on Christmas Break again, watching a sleepy, haggard Lily come to breakfast without a bra. He hadn't been able to get up from the table for a good thirty minutes, and every cell in his body was praying for that incident to not repeat now, especially as there was no table to hide it.

Seemingly oblivious, modern-day Lily was frowning sadly at him, her eyes wet and her lips slightly parted. "I don't want to be any different to you than I once was, Sev." The moment he fully understood these words, something very confusing happened: Lily's hand drifted slowly down, sliding in between his legs. The feeling of a girl touching him kept him rooted to his seat for a moment, but then he leapt up with a small, awkward scream.

"What are you _doing_?" He inexplicably felt duel surges of lust and loathing toward her. "Why…I mean, did you mean…?" Severus looked between her two eyes, searching for some sort of explanation. The image of him still sitting on the couch while she stroked him through his robes floated across her mind. He really couldn't stop his erection anymore, and he quickly stalked out of the house, making sure to slam the door especially hard. He hoped her little brat woke up; she deserved a reminder of what a total bitch she was.

Lily's muffled shriek of "I'm sorry" was lost on him, and he kept walking until he realized that Godric's Hollow was nowhere near where he wanted to go. Snape Apparated to the bank of the dirty river, then hurried through Spinner's End. Relief instantly swelled within his chest as he practically sprinted toward his now-visible house, only stopping to catch his breath and feel anything when he was safely inside.

**A/N: What did everyone think of this chapter? Reviews are always welcome! Also, as I warned many chapters ago, this is the last of my fully pre-written chapters. I'm still juggling multiple essays for school, but I'll try hard to maintain my Monday/Thursday update schedule or at least a once-a-week update on either day. I'm working on two chapters now, so I'll try to get those up on Thursday and next Monday. **


	10. Chapter 10

The Absence

Chapter 10

by The Conqueror Worm

"_All the lonely people,_

_Where do they all belong?"_

_-"Eleanor Rigby," The Beatles_

**lllllll**

He had lifted her onto his motorcycle. He had told her to wrap both arms around his waist, to hold on tightly. His back and chest were warm, even through his jacket, and she had pressed her face against him, had closed her eyes as they rose through the air, up over Godric's Hollow, sailing over the clouds, before circling back toward her street, her home. When they'd landed, he'd grasped her hand, helped her off of the high seat. He'd carried her books to the door under one arm, holding her hand in the other as they walked up the stone path leading to her door. Before he'd rung the bell, he looked down at her, smiling quizzically. "I don't think you ever said. What's your name?"

"Hermione Granger," she'd said, and her voice had mercifully not squeaked this time.

"Hermione," he'd repeated, squeezing her small hand. "Like the Greek goddess."

Then, he'd released her to ring the bell, and he was speaking to her mother, explaining who he was, handing her books over, climbing onto his motorcycle and leaving her behind.

Hermione replayed this memory every night as she lay in bed, trying to fall asleep. It was, in effect, like every girly movie she'd sighed over, every book she'd scoffed at the other girls for reading and then secretly consumed feverishly on her own. The only part that wasn't right was that she was woefully still nine years old, and Sirius Black, however dreamy, was not remotely interested in her as a potential love interest. Hermione frowned and gripped her pillow tighter against her pajama-clad chest. It was going to take forever to grow up, to reach an age where Sirius Black might want to marry her. Hermione felt tears sting her eyes, and she shifted in order to press her face against her pillow. Life was so unfair.

llllll

Prongs was racing ahead of him, rushing to shoulder check Moony back toward the path leading to the middle of the woods. The werewolf kept veering back in the direction of a town that lay twenty miles to the West, and Sirius and James had enough experience with werewolves to know how fast one could run such a long distance. Prongs made a small whinnying noise over his shoulder, his antlers glowing bone white in the light of the full moon. Padfoot forced himself to speed up, nipping playfully at the werewolf's tail with his blunt side teeth. The truth was that Sirius wasn't having an especially good time. They had gone out for drinks earlier, as this dulled the werewolf's bloodlust a bit on full moon nights, and he'd had a little too much. It was making it hard for the black dog to keep up with Prongs's prancing leaps and the werewolf's long strides, and his vision kept going blurry.

After another twenty minutes of running, those last few shots of Fire Whiskey really started to kick in. His body began to feel heavy, and he had to stop to rest for a moment. The dog watched the deer and wolf run off into the distance, neither noticing his absence, as he'd been behind them all night. After a few more minutes, when his dog ears could no longer catch the muffled pounding of hooves on the forest floor, Sirius turned back into a man and rested his back against a tree trunk, slumping over. After another half hour, this seemed too pathetic an action to continue. He rose unsteadily to his feet and Disapparated. It took him a few tries, but he finally appeared ten feet from his flying motorcycle and stumbled toward it.

He'd been living in a small flat in London since graduating from Hogwarts, living off of the money Uncle Alphy had left him. This money was quickly running out, however, as Sirius had enjoyed his bachelor life a little too much, spending wild amounts of money on food and liquor. And of course, there were many times when Remus, unemployed once again for mysteriously missing too much work around the full moon, had come to stay with him for long stretches at a time. None of this mattered much to a rather drunk Sirius now, though; the more pressing problem was that he was nowhere near his apartment. They'd been planning to go to James's for breakfast the next morning, and so, they had chosen some woods an hour away from Godric's Hollow. Sirius sighed. Perhaps Lily would let him in early if he begged.

**llllll**

For most of the trip to Godric's Hollow, it had been rather touch and go. Sirius kept drifting off and losing his bearings; he constantly had to check in which direction he was going and adjust. At last, he landed rather heavily on Lily's and James's street, a few feet away from their house and on the opposite side of the street. It was late now, perhaps 2:30, if the incredibly blurry numbers on his watch were correct, and he was surprised to see all of the downstairs lights ablaze. He sat for a moment, watching the house, and felt oddly lonely. In all of his life, he had never had a home. Sure, he had stayed with the Potters, but that had been as a guest, no matter how warmly they treated him. His home life before that had been quite terrible, of course, what with his judgmental, angry parents. And even now, in his own apartment, it felt sad and empty. He always felt cold there, and he frequently turned into his Animagus form just to clear his thoughts. Remus, who was sad and dejected at the best of times, barely added any warmth to the apartment when there, as he always misread Sirius and thought that avoiding him, quietly sneaking around from room to room, was what Sirius desired.

Sirius was shaken from these thoughts by the loud sound of a door slamming and looked up in time to see a very furious Severus Snape strutting down the walk of the Potter's house. He was only stopped from calling out by the strange way Snape was walking and gritting his teeth. Finally, the black-clad man whipped himself around and Disapparated. A moment later, Lily, looking flushed, came rushing out of the house rather unsteadily. "Severus? Severus, wait! I can explain." She turned her head every which way, but he was gone. Looking dejected, she slunk back into her house, and after a few moments, the lights went off in the house.

Sirius sat frozen, gripping the handle bars of his bike and feeling a sort of numb horror at what he had just seen. It was obviously a moment that Lily had meant to keep hidden from her husband. Why had Snivelly looked so furious? Why had Lily run after him as if her life depended on it? Why in the world was Snape even at the Potters, on a night when James was gone and Harry was sleeping soundly in his bed? He wasn't sure what to do now, but he did know that going to the Potters was not an option. After a few minutes, he set off by foot, and it was only when he arrived at his destination that he knew he had meant to go there all along. With his wand, he levitated himself level to the second floor and looked into the window, relieved that he had found the right one on the first try. He knocked rather loudly on the window, his breath fogging up the glass.

Hermione sat up in bed, her heart pounding in her ears. A man, pale-faced and dressed in black, was floating outside her window. Images of every vampire movie she had ever seen flickered through her mind, and she hugged her pillow for dear life. It was only when the man smiled sheepishly at her that she realized that it was Sirius Black, and she nearly fell over in her race to open the window.

He toppled unceremoniously through the small window, nearly knocking her over. "'Lo," he said, grinning. "Sorry to barge in so late, but I'm a bit…under the weather and homeless. I don't suppose I could crash on your floor? In a purely platonic, non-pedo sort of way. I'll even be a dog."  
>Hermione missed half of the garbled drivel that he seemed to think was charming, but she nodded her head anyway, eager to agree with him. Sirius rose to his feet, walked a few steps, stumbled, and then collapsed onto the rug next to her bed. She watched all of this, unsure of his behavior. Her parents never drank to the point of excess, and so, her only experience with the idea of being drunk was through books and movies. She supposed that must be why he was here, and though her crush overrode these feelings, she still felt a little bit of stuffy disapproval at his behavior. Then again, she also felt a sort of eagerness at his reckless, bad boy behavior, so you really couldn't go by her judgment anyway.<p>

"Er, so," she said, cautiously picking her way across her room and climbing back on her bed. She was very aware of the fact that she was wearing a pink nightgown decorated with, of all things, cartoon characters, and she hugged her pillow again, trying to hide this. Sirius, for his part, wasn't even looking at her. He lay motionless, his handsome face smushed into the carpet, and his eyes were barely open. "How are things?" This was the polite sort of thing her mother always said, even to her, when an awkward lull occurred or there was simply nothing else to say. It sounded silly even to her, but perhaps grown-ups always said things like that, trying so hard to smooth over the difficult moments in life.

Sirius was silent for so long that she thought he must have fallen asleep, but at last, he spoke, his voice muffled by the carpet. "I think my best friend's wife is having an affair."

"Really?" Hermione sat up straight, instantly rapt. "My mother's friend once had an affair. She talked about it constantly with Aunt Flora and Mrs. Morgan when she didn't know I was listening, but I was. I don't really understand why someone would have an affair. Don't you think love and marriage should be forever, just like in that movie? What's its name? Well, perhaps you didn't see it. Anyway, what makes you think she's having an affair? Did you catch her 'in the act?' That's what mother said her friend's husband did. I don't really get what that means. The act of what?" She stopped suddenly, out of breath from rambling so much. Hermione felt her face instantly redden when she realized that Sirius was now sitting up, staring at her with bewilderment etched into his attractive features. One of his eyelids was drooping lower than the other, but he still spotted the pile of Lily's books on the floor next to her bed.

With horror, she realized that A Wizard's Genealogy was open to the front cover where he had written, and beside it was the piece of paper where she had doodled 'Hermione Black' over and over again. "What's this?" he asked, reaching for the paper, but Hermione, completely sober, dove off of the bed and beat him to it, snatching it out of his grasp. She landed heavily on his lap, knocking the air out of him. She leapt off of him instantly, so red she thought her head might fall off, breathing heavily.

"Nothing. It's really nothing. Just taking notes," she panted while tearing up the paper into little pieces.

Sirius smirked, clearly amused. "Alright then," he said slowly, massaging the spot on his stomach where she had kneed him. "You're pretty red for it being nothing, you know." He laughed when her eyes bulged out in response. "Relax! Jeez, you're pretty intense for a kid, you know that?" He looked around the room, finally taking in all the little touches that showed who this tree-like girl really was—the figurines carefully lined up on a shelf by the closet, the wooden bookcase stuffed with books on a vast array of subjects, the pictures she had pinned up of all of her old friends from when she had been nothing more than a plain Muggle girl. A few framed posters of old French movies hung on her walls, perfectly straight. On her bed were various stuffed animals that she apparently slept on rather than pushing off onto the floor at night. He smiled sadly as he noticed these things. He had never been allowed to decorate the way he wanted when he was a child. Everything had been so dark and somber in his house, everything made of wood and etched with snakes. It wasn't until his teenage years that he had stubbornly insisted on his own decorations—an odd mixture of Muggle and Gryffindor souvenirs—but you could never cover up the feeling of repression in that house. Every one wore it like a cloak; it was in their very blood.

Hermione sat back down on her bed, slowly. "Are you okay?" she ventured as Sirius stared rather blankly up at her, as if he was trying to work out a difficult problem.

He jumped and then did his best to focus on her face. "I suppose. I should probably sleep now."

"Oh, right. Of course. How rude of me." They both seemed to notice what a strange response this was, but Sirius shook it off by turning into a dog. Hermione gasped, her brown eyes growing even larger in shock. Even though he had told her of this ability before, she had never expected it to be so instant. Magic, though she knew it was possible, had never seemed as real as it was in this moment, while she stared into the gray eyes of the biggest dog she had ever seen. Sirius flopped down on her rug again, shutting his eyes. "Wait," she said, and he whimpered in reply, looking pathetically up at her. "You don't have to sleep on the floor. You can sleep on the foot of my bed." Hermione seemed to have forgotten that she was not speaking to a real dog; she was simply too overwhelmed at the thought of what it must be like to have a pet. Her parents had always been too busy for pets, they said, despite her incessant pleading over the years.

Sirius, for his part, seemed to hesitate, but after a moment, he leapt onto the foot of her bed, causing her to let out a shocked little squeak. A few minutes later, Hermione was settled under the covers, gripping her favorite stuffed rabbit under one arm, and Sirius was snoring softly by her feet, feeling peaceful and truly wanted.

**Llllll**

**Fluffy, I know. Don't worry; it'll start to get weird again soon. Next two chapters will follow up a little more with Snape and Lily. I'm finishing up the next chapter for Monday's update, but I also have a rather large paper due next Thursday, along with a test, so there may only be one new chapter next week. I'll do my best! : ) **


	11. Chapter 11

The Absence

Chapter 11

by The Conqueror Worm

"_At school they taught me how to be_

_So pure in thought, in word, and deed_

_They didn't quite succeed."_

_-"It's a Sin," The Pet Shop Boys_

**llllll**

Lily leaned heavily on the edge of the kitchen sink, staring out of the small window above it. Outside, the first snow of winter had begun to fall, and she sighed sadly as her eyes followed the lazy flurries blowing about. It was dark in the kitchen except for the soft blue light streaming in from the window, giving her face a ghostly glow.

"Lily?" a quiet voice said as the kitchen door opened behind her.

She jumped and quickly swiped at the tears on her cheeks. "Oh, hello, Remus," she said, turning around with a rather forced smile on her face. Lily tried to surreptitiously sniffle behind her hand, and she felt embarrassed at the sad way Remus smiled with understanding.

"How are you, Lily?"

"Oh, me? I'm good. You know, busy with everything as usual." They both looked around the kitchen, which was void of any attempt at a chore. She hadn't cleaned in days, and they'd been living off a mixture of sandwiches and frozen meals. If Remus knew this, however, he didn't let on.

"So, how is Harry these days? He seems as, ah, rambunctious as ever."

Lily struggled to put some sort of motherly affection on her face, but she only succeeded in making a sick sort of grimace at his words. "He's…he's fine, Remus. You know, he takes after James a lot." Remus cocked his head and studied her face, as if searching for something. After an uncomfortable moment under his scrutiny, Lily coughed. "Er, so how have you been, Remus? Did everything go okay last night?"

This was a stupid question, as James had already recounted, in vivid detail, their entire adventure in front of both Lily and Remus as soon as the two friends had entered the home for breakfast, which Lily had yet to make. "You know, I always thought you and James made a good pair, Lily. All those years at Hogwarts, I couldn't help thinking that you would understand and love James more than anyone ever could. And you've created a little boy that's the perfect combination of the two of you—not just in looks, you know. He takes after both of you in personality." Even though Remus said these words in a light, warm tone, Lily felt a sort of prickly shame at his words, as if he were lecturing her on something. Really, if she did pause to think about it, some of Harry's worst traits—the ones she most liked to blame James for—actually resembled her own quite a bit. Hadn't she been accustomed to being doted on and deemed special, first by her parents and then by Severus and her professors at Hogwarts? There was always something sort of demanding and unhappy about her, too, though Harry's blatant disregard for other's feelings was something both James and Lily were guilty of, and Harry's loud way of demanding things of the world was James's own. Remus studied her reaction to his words carefully through tired amber eyes. As he opened his mouth to say more, James barged into the kitchen.

"Honestly! Where the hell is Padfoot?" he said, looking between Lily and Remus as if either were hiding him about their person. Sirius had mysteriously slunk off in the middle of their adventure last night, leaving James in his Animagus form to control a bloodthirsty werewolf. While nothing terrible had happened in his absence, James felt quite cross with his friend for leaving them without a backward glance. Sirius _had_, unfortunately, had quite a bit to drink before they left for the evening, James mused unhappily.

"I'm sure he'll turn up soon, James," Remus answered quietly. He hardly, if ever, used the nicknames the four Marauders had come up with during their school days; it had always seemed like a game James and Sirius played, and he was too shy and uncertain of himself to join in too much with their fun, lest they realize what a hindrance he was to it.

James ran a hand through part of his hair, smushing down half of it in the process. "I guess."

"Dad? _Dad!_" Harry shrieked from the next room, and a few seconds later, the sound of something heavy falling over occurred. "Oops," Harry squeaked, and James hurried out to the other room.

Remus and Lily stayed in the kitchen, watching one another. After a beat, Remus finally spoke. "So, how is Severus these days, Lily?" If Lily had not been expecting these words deep down, she probably would not have understood him.

"I don't really see how that's any of your business, Remus." Lily replied, frowning. She turned her back toward him and quickly grabbed a damp dish cloth from the sink, rubbing at the counter with a furious vigor. Remus's tone had reminded her quite a bit of Sirius's, and she didn't appreciate the air of accusation, especially as neither had reason to suspect anything amiss between her oldest friend and her. Remus remained standing behind her, watching her carefully for another minute, before she heard the kitchen door swing open and shut. Lily put down the washcloth and resumed looking out the window again, wondering for the umpteenth time where Severus was and if he'd ever answer the owl she'd immediately sent after him the night before.

**llllll**

Severus stood solemnly behind the counter of the Apothecary where he worked. Melinda was in the back, haggling with their supplier for more Unicorn hair, and he took this moment to lean heavily against the counter and clear his thoughts. He had been on auto-pilot all day, determined to not think about the night before, when Lily had behaved so strangely toward him. Of course, he had gone over the various possibilities that he had dreamed the entire evening, that he had drunk too much and misinterpreted things, that Lily was drunk and confused. But he knew that all of those thoughts were so pathetically untrue, and that made the truth that much harder to bear. Why had Lily done this again, shattered all their hopes for some semblance of their old friendship? He gritted his teeth, which he seemed to be doing a lot since the night before. At the ding of the bell, he looked up, instantly feeling too tired to deal with Regulus today. But after a moment, he realized with anger, it was actually Sirius Black standing in the bright rectangle of the door, looking around curiously, as if he didn't seem to notice Snape blending into the dark shelves on the wall.

"By all means, let in _all_ of the cold air, Black." Sirius jumped at the nasty, hissing voice mysteriously coming from the rear of the store, but he instantly picked out the pallid face of Snape.

"Oh, right," he glared. "I forgot Lily said you worked here." For a second, an uncharacteristic anxiety seemed to cross over Sirius's face as he remembered what he had witnessed the night before, but he quickly hid it. "I need some potions ingredients," he finished lamely, too hung-over to come up with a good insult.

"For what?" Snape snapped back. He didn't buy Black's words for an instant. He was obviously here just to point and laugh at Snivellus, who had to work for his dinner by sorting rats' eyes and beetles' wings. Sirius was always there to kick him when he was down. For a second, the horrific thought that maybe Lily had been pulling a prank on him the night before, and all of the Marauders were in on it, crossed his mind. He surreptitiously tried to catch the older Black's eye to confirm or refute this, but Sirius was actively avoiding him as much as one could when stuck in a very confined space with someone they despised.

Sirius poked at a jar of mulberries, frowning with worry. This morning had been rather odd, especially as he had mysteriously woken up on the bed of a little girl he barely knew. The sound of her mother calling her down for breakfast had woken him from a drunken slumber, and Hermione, her hair poofed even larger than usual, bolted up in bed with a horrified expression. She quickly raced downstairs to meet her mother, and Sirius, uncertain, stayed where he was. Breakfast did smell rather good after all. Hermione returned twenty minutes later, bearing a napkin full of fried eggs on toast, and Sirius happily lapped the food from her hands, making her giggle. Awhile later, Hermione's parents left for work, and Sirius turned back into a man.

For a good hour or two, Hermione easily filled the awkward silences between them with mindless chatter, showing off the books Lily had loaned her and the ones her parents had bought her from a local bookshop. For his part, Sirius was surprised to find that he was actually paying attention to her, was sitting rapt as he consumed the odd thoughts and logic of a child. When Hermione expressed some dismay at not being able to practice potions because she didn't own a wand yet, Sirius was even more surprised to hear himself offering to help her, to teach her even. His grades in Potions at Hogwarts had been effortlessly good, which satisfyingly irritated Snivellus to no end, and he saw no reason why he couldn't help Hermione prepare for basic Potions classes, especially when her large eyes shown so brightly with glee when he offered, as if nothing could be so wonderful.

So, here he was, poking around an Apothecary, trying to find supplies for some of the more basic Potions in his old introductory book from first year. The reason he had come to Knockturn Alley, rather than shopping at the nice clean Apothecary in Diagon Alley, was only because he had been worried about running into Lily or anyone else that would question his motives for brewing children's potions. This worry seemed ridiculous even to him, but you never knew who was watching, and Knockturn Alley provided a certain level of anonymity and no-questions-asked to its customers. If he hadn't been painfully hung over, he might have realized both of these charms flew out the window if you chose the exact Apothecary where your enemy worked.

"Oh, hello, can I help you?" a pleasant woman's voice asked from behind him. He turned, surprised to see a short, plump older woman standing somewhere near his navel, simultaneously smiling at him and casting a suspicious glare at Snape, who was pretending to take inventory of some dried lizard tails behind the counter. "_Have_ you been helped yet?"

Sirius frowned. "No, actually," and he felt a grim inward satisfaction at the way Snape stiffened at his words but continued to ignore him. "I just need some basic level potions ingredients, like students purchase for Hogwarts. Perhaps…" he looked at the shop. "And perhaps something a little more exotic for more fun potions…?" He looked helplessly down at the woman. It had been far too long since he brewed anything; why in the world had he agreed to this? The woman, however, nodded with understanding and quickly began grabbing ingredients and weighing them out on different brass and silver scales, muttering to herself.

"And will you need a cauldron, dear? Or how about some nice silver scales for measuring?" Sirius nodded, grateful.

"I'm taking my break," Snape's dour voice broke in, and Sirius watched him retrieve a pack of cigarettes from one of his inner robe pockets. He cast Sirius a rather nasty sneer before cutting through the back room to reach the alley behind the store. Sirius followed his steps closely, frowning. Why was Snape even more miserable than usual, he mused? Unless this was just how Snape always was; he couldn't remember from when they were all in school. One thing Sirius did know was that whatever had been occurring between Snape and Lily had gone bad, and he still wasn't sure if he was going to tell James any of this yet. Or perhaps he should confront Lily about it first? Sirius hated feeling helpless.

"You'll have to excuse my assistant, dear," Melinda broke in, smiling apologetically at the incredibly handsome man in front of her. "He was a wonderful apprentice, of course, but the downside to most Potions' Masters is that they lack any semblance of people skills. I suppose he'll be moving on once he's passed all of the Ministry tests for licensure, though." She glanced over her shoulder as the back door slammed shut and Snape emerged from the back room, looking positively nauseous at the sight of Sirius still being there. Melinda quickly rang up Sirius, who paid the total without paying attention to the shocking amount she had charged him for Lethe water and a bezoar, and quickly strutted out of the door and into the shadowy, winding streets of Knockturn Alley. As he reached the stone steps leading up to Diagon Alley, he paused and looked over his shoulder. It had felt, just for a moment, as if someone was watching him.

**llllll**

**Because I am a fool, I actually wrote Thursday's chapter, rather than working on my school essays due on Thursday. Brilliant, I know. However, I'm really happy with Thursday's chapter, and it's actually longer than usual! I'll post it sometime on Thursday, and I'm aiming for another chapter next Monday, though that one **_**may**_** be late, as I really do have to try to do some homework eventually. ; )**


	12. Chapter 12

The Absence

Chapter 12

by The Conqueror Worm

"_Abuse me _

_Use me_

_Shut up and do me_

'_Cause everybody wants something from me."_

_-The Pretty Reckless_

**llllll**

Severus Snape stared morosely down at his goblet of wine, feeling rather annoyed at the loud prattling of a few hundred people sucking up to one another. He cast a rather terrifying glare around the room while leaning against the wall. He'd immediately gravitated toward a dark corner upon entering the room; he didn't want to speak with anyone. Lucius and Narcissa had greeted him warmly enough from their hosting position at the door, and he'd already said hello to Draco, who was appallingly and inexplicably dressed as a pumpkin. It was not common practice to wear silly Halloween costumes in the Wizarding world, as it was a Muggle tradition, though a lot of the females of high society seemed to take this opportunity to dress scandalously and the men's robes tended to get more eccentric. Narcissa, for one, had chosen blood red robes with a hip-high slit on one side, and Lucius had chosen snow-white robes for a nice contrast while standing beside her. Snape, as always, wore simple black robes.

"Well, if it isn't dear, little Snape," a woman trilled in his ear, making him slop wine down his front.

"Good evening, Bellatrix," he snarled, looking murderous as he swiped at his robes. Bellatrix was leaning against the wall beside him, simultaneously leering at him and smirking triumphantly. "Don't you look, ah…" he felt his face flushing slightly at the realization that Bellatrix was hardly wearing any robes; what was supposed to pass for clothing, he assumed, was little more than a leather contraption that barely covered her torso. Bellatrix grinned viciously as she watched him notice this.

"I see you opted out of the festivities, Snape," she replied, staring at his robes, which were perhaps the least sexual sort ever. "No matter. You're hardly the only one." She nodded to a black-clad group across the room, which was composed of an odd mixture of feral-looking men and some of the richest Purebloods in the room. Severus was surprised to see Lucius walking toward them, standing out like a ghost in his white robes. As soon as he noticed this, the group parted, and he saw that a pale, dark-haired man had been standing in the center. He had a sort of aristocratic air about him, which was not uncommon among the upper class, but the shocking thing was that the surrounding group seemed to be staring at him as if he were royalty. "_That's_ the Dark Lord," Bellatrix whispered seductively in his ear, and Snape squirmed away from her, wiping away the warm wetness her mouth had left.

He adopted a bored tone, though his heart was hammering in his chest. He could swear that man had just looked straight at him as if he were little more than an interesting trinket he'd like to collect. "Is it?"

"If you want," she said as she ran just the tips of her fingers down his upper arm, "I'd just _love_ to introduce you." Her voice had maintained a convincing amount of evil until this last part, and Snape could almost feel the lie radiating from her.

"Really? Or is this simply a chore you've been asked to do by this supposed Dark Lord?" He turned to look at Bellatrix, who let out an insane sort of menacing growl when he tried to probe her mind.

"None of your mind games, Snape. We can play on our own time." She hip-checked him and rudely pointed across the room at the group again. "Lucius is calling you." He followed her finger to see Lucius was indeed gesturing for him to join the small group. Snape narrowed his black eyes into slits; he never should have trusted Regulus. "I'd be more than happy to take you to—"

"Bellatrix!" a male voice boomed from his other side. "Whatever are you doing talking to Severus for so long? You're keeping him from making his social rounds." Snape snorted softly at this, turning to glare at Regulus's hand on his shoulder. "Why don't I introduce you to some friends of mine, Snape? They're right, oh, over there." Snape followed his finger back toward the group, where Lucius seemed to be growing more annoyed by the second that he had still not crossed the room.

Bellatrix put her hand possessively on his other shoulder. "Actually, _Reg_, we were just about to join the Dark Lord. If you'll excuse us."

Regulus tugged on Snape's sleeve. "I don't really think…"

"Both of you, stop touching me _now_." Bellatrix and Regulus looked at Snape, surprised at his interruption of their bickering. "And I'm quite comfortable remaining right here. _Alone_." Neither one of them were listening to him, though, and he realized why when a quiet, silky voice began to speak from in front of him.

"Hello. I am Lord Voldemort. Perhaps you have heard of me." This was not stated as a question. Snape looked up at the handsome man before him, who was also dressed in simple black robes, though his had an expensive, tailored look about them. His skin had a slight waxy texture, and his dark brown eyes looked almost black as they bored into Snape's.

"Yes, my Lord. This is Severus Snape, who I was—" Voldemort held up a hand, silencing Regulus.

"Of this, I am already aware, Regulus." He was smiling, but it did not reach his eyes. "Your friends have always spoken quiet highly of you, Severus. In fact, Regulus was just praising your potioneering the other day. Is it true that you are a Potions Master? And at such a young age." Voldemort's emotionless eyes ran up and down Snape's body, sizing him up.

Snape's eyes flickered toward Regulus beside him. "Actually, I'm still waiting on my licensure to pass."

Voldemort smiled his odd little smile again. "Of course, but Dolohov here happens to work at the Ministry, don't you Dolohov?" A bitter-looking man with dirty blonde hair nodded grimly on his left. "And he's taken the liberty of making sure the right people hurry along with your licensure. Lord Voldemort hates to see such talent kept waiting."

Snape returned his direct stare, feeling uneasy. "I see. That was very…kind of you," he said without enthusiasm. Lord Voldemort did not seem like the sort of person who did anything out of kindness.

"Well, as a show of your appreciation, I would be honored if you joined us for a little meeting at midnight. It won't take long." Severus looked over at Lucius. Everyone else was looking at Lord Voldemort, rapt, but Lucius was staring at Snape with a mixture of apprehension and anxiety. As soon as he noticed Snape looking at him, however, he maneuvered his features into a look of bored indifference. Voldemort turned his attention to Regulus. "And you, Regulus, I hope will join us for some extra festivities after that, won't you? Bellatrix and Lucius will be joining us as well." Bellatrix nodded eagerly at his words, excited at whatever opportunity Voldemort was speaking of. Lucius was now staring over his shoulder at Draco, who had fallen over in his pumpkin costume and was angrily ordering Crabbe and Goyle's boys to help him. It seemed as if he wanted to be talking to anyone else right now.

After the group had dispersed and Bellatrix had ran after Lord Voldemort to ask if he liked her robes tonight, Narcissa walked up to Snape and Lucius, the latter of whom was still standing there, watching his son. "Isn't Draco just precious?" she asked the pair, smiling proudly.

"Why did you make him wear that thing? He hates it. He can't even move his arms," Lucius sniped, though he was secretly amused.

"Well, _Lucius_," she replied, entwining one of her arms around his and reminding Snape a lot of her sister. "While everyone else's ugly children were toddling about, I wanted our beautiful one to really stand out. And he has. I've been getting compliments all night about precious he is."

Lucius nodded. "Naturally. Just look at his stunning parents." They shared a warm look before Narcissa turned her attention to Snape.

"Severus! How lovely for you to join us. I do hope you're enjoying the party. We barely had a chance to speak at the door." Snape allowed her to prattle on some more about her family and some of their old classmates, but he was really watching Lucius, who looked uneasy under his stare. This was not a reaction Snape was used to eliciting in Lucius Malfoy, who always seemed so sure of himself and delighted in talking down pedantically to his school friend—and everyone, for that matter. When Narcissa moved on to rub it into Mrs. Greengrass's face how blonde Draco's hair was in comparison to her children's, Snape turned to Lucius.

"And will you be at this meeting?" he began, as if this was a conversation they had been having all along.

Lucius nodded. "As one of the Dark Lord's inner circle, it is expected that I will be."

"And if you just didn't show up?"

His friend sighed in response, suddenly looking uncharacteristically tired beneath the bright lights above them. "I expect the Dark Lord would be quite angry if I didn't. It doesn't matter, though, as I plan to be there. It is what we all must do if we plan to return the natural balance of things, in which Muggles and Muggleborns bow down to true Wizards." He turned to Snape. "Will you?" Suddenly, inexplicably, thoughts of his father intruded into Snape's thoughts. He remembered how pathetic and small his father had looked through the hospital window, how the doctor had said his liver was failing. How he had felt nothing at these words, had refused to go to the funeral despite his mother's pleading. "You don't have to make a commitment to anything right now, but it's the least you could do for Regulus. He's been talking about you endlessly to the Dark Lord, and I'm sure he'd appreciate it if you at least showed up to one meeting."

"I hardly see how that's my problem," Snape replied, but he obviously felt some pity for Regulus, as midnight found him standing in a large room at the back of Malfoy Manor. He was unpleasantly surprised to see that he seemed to be the main focus of this small gathering. All around him, he spotted a quite a few Purebloods, along with some influential Half Bloods from the Ministry and Daily Profit. Each one of them, including Lucius now, were wearing the same type of black robes and holding something resembling a hard white mask in their left hand.

"How lovely for you to join us, Severus," the Dark Lord hissed quietly. It was obvious that he was used to others listening to him without question. His pale face stood out in the sea of dark robes, and his eyes glittered slightly from the sparse light of the few lit candles in the room. "I can see that you are impatient, so allow me to explain my interest in your membership with the Death Eaters."

Snape frowned at this. "Death Eaters?"

Lord Voldemort laughed a high-pitched, ringing laugh. Snape felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up at the sound, and several of the people in the circle around him shifted uncomfortably. "It's just a nickname my followers like to call themselves." He resumed his serious expression, as if no interruption had occurred. "I feel that you would be a good follower due to your Potions-making ability. I'm not sure if you are aware, but Professor Slughorn is about to retire from his position as Potions' Master at Hogwarts. I believe that you would be a good candidate for his replacement, and I am quite sure Dumbledore would agree."

Snape narrowed his eyes, feeling revulsion at the idea of children being near him in any context. Briefly, he remembered his encounter with Lily's child, which only further validated his feelings on the matter. "And why would I do that, exactly? I have no desire to teach children. I plan to start my own Apothecary as soon as my licensure is completed."

"I see. And in due time, all of your dreams will be possible. But for now, it would be better for all involved if you were to take a position at Hogwarts. If you should do this thing for Lord Voldemort, he would be more than willing to give you everything you desire in return."

Severus felt oddly indignant at these words. He had always prided himself on being inscrutable to other people. "How do you know what I desire?"

An odd, reddish glint seemed to flash in the Dark Lord's eyes. "Lord Voldemort knows all." His voice was oddly echoic yet muffled as he said these words, and Snape felt strange, as if he were falling backward, before his entire body suddenly lurched and caused him to fall to his knees. He had always prided himself on his Legilimency skills; they were something he was born with, and he had worked for years to improve them. Predictably, his Occlumency skills had always been quite strong as well. A few times in his life, he had felt them weakly tested. Bellatrix, for one, always tried to probe his thoughts whenever she caught his eye, and Remus Lupin had once or twice attempted to when he was a Prefect at Hogwarts and had come upon the other Marauders harassing Snape. Never had any pushed his limits like this. He was immediately drowning in his own memories.

The first things he saw were ones that didn't matter, thoughts he kept close to the surface because it would not bother him if they were found. First, there were his memories of working at the Apothecary, noticing the unhappy, disapproving way Melinda regarded him. She hardly made it a secret that she thought he was brilliant but strange and unpleasant. A memory of Slughorn regarding him the same way. There was the memory of Sirius in the shop, avoiding his stare, and then multiple instances of Regulus standing before him, mocking the working class. The Dark Lord pushed further and further, and Snape couldn't push back; all of his limits were failing. James Potter and Sirius Black were picking on him, calling him "Snivellus," cursing him in the hallway. Lucius Malfoy smiling curiously at him when he cursed Mulciber in the common room; he took him under his wing as an odd little companion and everyone stopped teasing him. The strange acceptance of his dorm mates then. There was Dumbledore swearing him to secrecy, followed by the actual memory of facing Remus Lupin in werewolf form. He had been so afraid of dying. Then there were his parents. His mother, meek and pathetic, and his father angry and constantly drunk. The memory of how he had never felt loved, had always been overlooked. The secret, boiling anger that he felt whenever he was looked down by anyone, everyone. He had always been someone who wanted to be feared and respected, and he had spent most of his life vowing to seek revenge on all of them. Lord Voldemort pushed past this feeling with a triumphant smile, at last reaching Snape's most secret thoughts.

There it was, that insane, disgusting desire to be loved, always, and the one person Snape had always wished to love him. Suddenly, he was awash in Lily, in everything about her. Her green eyes, her long red hair, the eager way she looked at him before Hogwarts when he was the only Wizard she knew. The way she held his hand, and the hurt when she grew older and stopped. The hollow disappointment he felt when she was sorted into Gryffindor. How she hugged him goodbye and hello so many times. How she grew and her body started to change and his body started to change and he couldn't stop thinking about what she must look like naked. The embarrassing time Regulus had caught him wanking in the shower and told everyone in their year and then some, and everyone in Slytherin started calling him "Severus Wank" for all of third year until Lucius told them to stop. The shame he felt in fifth year when James Potter exposed him to everyone, and the embarrassment of Lily standing up for him. How he'd chased after her for the rest of the year, apologizing for calling her a Mudblood. The relief when she finally forgave him after spending a summer apart. And then the excruciating pain that he felt when she told him she was pregnant with James Potter's child, and then later, when Potter had gloated that they were going to be married as soon as they graduated. The realization that her body was changing again, widening, her stomach growing grotesquely large under her school robes. How he stopped thinking about what she looked like naked because he was trying so hard to not think of her at all. How they never spoke and she stopped trying after only a few weeks of him ignoring her, and it became like they were never friends again. And then, there she was, like a ghost, her stomach flat, standing on his doorstep at Spinner's End. How they'd fallen into a sort of awkward acquaintanceship, seeing each other every few months. The feeling that this was worse than not seeing her at all because it was like she was being dangled in front of him, never really his, even in those few moments when she sat next to him as he brewed potions, pretending to help. And then there was last night.

"No!" he cried out, and his wand was in his hand, as if by instinct.

"My Lord!" Bellatrix shrieked, and there was the sound of many feet racing toward the center of the room, followed by some painful yells as people trod on each other's feet. Snape opened his dark eyes woozily and was shocked to see Lord Voldemort lying prostrate on the floor before him. He stared down at his hand where his wand was still clutched. _Crap._

"Off. I said, get _off_, Bellatrix." Voldemort rose to his feet, furious. He looked as if he wanted very badly to curse Snape right back, but he instead opted for a kind of terrifying calm. The glint in his eyes seemed to fluctuate between red and brown, though Snape couldn't be sure in the dim light. "It would be unwise to curse Lord Voldemort ever again, Severus Snape. However, I will let it pass…_this_ time. Your memories have revealed something that has led me to believe you and I can do much for one another. This girl… Lily, was it? It seems she loves another man. Or _does_ she?" He smiled cruelly down at Snape. "In any case, you care quite deeply for her. What if I were to make the inconvenience of her marriage disappear?"

Snape regarded him coolly. "And how would you do that?"

"By removing the obstacles in your way." Voldemort glided over to him, his black robes swishing softly as he moved. "You are a Half Blood, Severus," he said, walking around Snape in a slow circle. "You carry the last blood that is left of the noble Prince line, and yet you stand by while blood traitors take what is yours. But no longer. You can have your little Mudblood, keep her as your little pet. Lord Voldemort will provide this and more. All you must do is go to Hogwarts and play your part well. You will merely need to keep tabs on Dumbledore, see who he is meeting with, who stands in the way of Pureblood rule. And when the time is right, you will vacate your post and begin your Apothecary—with Lily at your side, if you wish."

He swallowed, staring at Voldemort, at Bellatrix, who still seemed furious at his cursing the Dark Lord, and at Regulus, who was watching eagerly, as if Christmas had come early. But then his eyes flickered to Lucius, who was standing very still, his eyes oddly wide in comparison to his calm, pale features. He was the only one who hadn't rushed to the Dark Lord's side. And inexplicably, there it was again, the memory of his father dying in that bed, alone, no longer someone Snape feared. It was a memory Voldemort passed over because it had no great emotional reaction attached to it. Because that was the exact moment when it became very obvious that life was very fleeting and humans were all very, very weak. And then there was the memory of Lily, asking him if it mattered if you were Muggleborn, and he had lied and said no, it didn't matter. There was the memory of the look on her face when she said her son resembled James with such sadness, and the memory of her hand on his thigh. And finally, tragically, the memory of how he felt when he opened his front door and saw her standing there, after so long, asking to be let back into his life, his heart, as if she knew she always had a place there. How dare she think that? A strange anger began to grow in his chest, pulsating with each beat of his heart. What did Lord Voldemort know about him or what he desired? Why should he be anyone's puppet, their play thing, their distraction from their miserable lives? As if _he _ever owed the world a thing.

He rose slowly to his feet, his head bowed. "No, I don't think we can help one another." He turned and left the room, ignoring Bellatrix's shriek of rage and Regulus calling his name with horror in his voice. It was time to go home. Because, in the end, what he truly wanted most was to be alone.

**llllll**

**Okay, I'm sure right now some of you are thinking, 'What the hell?' My answer is that I only ever had a very vague mental outline of where this thing was going, and it's kind of taken on a life of its own. Originally, he was going to be a Death Eater, but then I realized my timeline is AU anyway. He's not right out of school, young and naïve; he's a grown-up with eight years of life experience under his belt, so...Voil****à****. I will mention that not being a Death Eater hardly makes someone a good person, though.**

**There'll be a new chapter sometime next week; I'm shooting for Monday. And many thanks toward the people who have reviewed, etc. so far; I truly appreciate it!**


	13. Chapter 13

The Absence

Chapter 13

"_The tenderest touch leaves the darkest of marks and the kindest of kisses breaks the hardest of hearts."_

_-Florence and the Machine_

**llllll**

_Early December_

Sirius stood behind Hermione, watching her weigh some porcupine quills on the set of silver scales he'd bought for her. "Good work," he said, clapping her on the shoulder. She jumped and turned to look up at him, her large brown eyes open wide and her face bright red. Despite months of Sirius teaching her to prepare and brew potions, Hermione's crush had yet to lessen, and she was still awkward and embarrassed by any attention he showed her. She turned back to the quills before her, her hands shaking as she grabbed the lot and tossed them in the cauldron. Her blush returned with full force when he leaned down next to her to light the fire with his wand.

"When will it be ready?" Hermione asked, avoiding his eyes. She knew that whenever the potion was done, he'd go home, and she was always hoping to prolong that inevitable event.

"An hour and twenty three minutes, precisely," he told her as he straightened up. "Set the timer, would you?" He watched with amusement as she fumbled the small hour glass, turning the metal dials to the right time. Hermione was a very expressive little girl; she frequently squeaked, blushed, and contorted her face into all sorts of horrified expressions whenever he spoke or looked directly at her. While he was certainly used to eliciting this reaction from the majority of the female population, it certainly was odd for a nine year to be positively infatuated with him. Now, of course, he tried to ignore this fact as much as possible; it was already quite wrong that he was standing in her bedroom at eleven o'clock in the morning while her parents were at work, blissfully unaware that he, a man in his twenties, was in their home right now with their very young daughter. Hermione had lied to her parents—a rarity—and told them that Lily often invited her over for a play date with Harry when her mother was out, and so, her mother had started picking up more hours at work, thinking her daughter spent much of the day supervised by an adult. This wasn't a _total_ lie, Sirius thought. Instead of walking a few houses and an alley down to the Potters', Hermione remained safely in her house, _learning, _he justified.

To be honest, his friendship—or whatever one should call it—with Hermione had taken over his life. Most of his days were spent with her, and he spent most nights looking for interesting potions to brew with her. He had even begun to teach her some dueling positions and wand waving techniques. Often, he brought her books about magical creatures, charms, and Wizarding history. (Her favorite book so far had been Hogwarts, A History; she had already read it cover to cover three times.) James kept sending him owls, asking him to come over and visit, but Sirius usually became frustrated during these visits. The dance of tiptoeing around a moping Lily and a childish James was exhausting, and Harry was absolutely atrocious company in comparison to Hermione. He started struggling too much to keep from talking down unkindly to Harry, so he started visiting less and less to avoid all of them.

Remus, who was currently living with him, was also quietly curious about Sirius's whereabouts. The first few times Sirius had woken up early—a first since leaving Hogwarts—Remus had asked if he was visiting James, but after hearing 'no' a few too many times, he stopped asking. Now, whenever Sirius came home it was to find Remus sitting on the couch, reading, though it felt more like waiting for him, and Sirius would have to be careful to avoid his friend's eyes. He'd always felt as if Remus could read his mind, and he certainly didn't want to have to explain what he spent his days doing to anyone, least of all his only friend who made logical, adult decisions. Fortunately, Remus and James were only curious so far, not suspicious. It seemed the two of them were assuming that Sirius was dating someone, and in fact, James had asked if Sirius had heard from Mary Macdonald lately in his last letter.

"Um?" Hermione squeaked from somewhere near his navel. He was used to being addressed liked this and smiled down at her with an eyebrow raised. "What do you want to do now?"

He looked around her room. In the last few months, they had discussed all of her possessions, her family's photo albums, and some of her parents' souvenirs from around Europe and Africa. He'd also already told her most of his interesting tales from his time at Hogwarts. "I wouldn't say no to a nap, actually," he told her, stretching and yawning. As he did so, Hermione caught a glimpse of a word tattooed just above his bony, pale left hip. He flopped backward on her bed, and yes, now she could really see it because of how his black t-shirt had ridden up. The word, written in the same scratchy, loopy script she had memorized from the inside cover of his book, was 'Grim.' Sirius pushed himself up on his elbows and grinned, watching the overall effect he seemed to have on Hermione. He followed her line of vision to his tattoo, and laughed. "Say, let me ask you something." He paused to make sure he had her attention, though he rarely didn't. "Do you think I'm attractive?" The way she turned so red she was almost purple really made him laugh then, and he sat up fully, reaching out a hand to her. "Come on," he said amusedly as Hermione marveled at the devil-may-care way his hair effortlessly flopped over one eye. "We'll still have an hour if we sleep now." He turned into a dog as she joined him on her bed, and she nestled her head against his furry back. For an hour, she lay with her eyes open wide, listening to his soft snores as her head rose slowly up and down with each breath. She counted his heart beating 4,318 times before the timer roused him and he turned back into a man.

**llllll**

"Oh good, it's you again," Snape sneered from behind the counter as Sirius walked into the Apothecary. He put down the newspaper he had been reading; it was a habit he'd somewhat broken since leaving Hogwarts, but after the Malfoy's party, he'd taken it up again. November first had brought reports of mass Muggle slayings, and he knew that this was the activity Voldemort had been referring to when he invited Regulus along. Since then, the number of Muggle deaths was steadily increasing, and more and more wizards were disappearing or being found dead in their homes. Each death was marked by a large, glowing skull with a snake for a tongue, which floated ominously above the house of the victim. It was getting so that Snape couldn't walk to work without hearing the people in Knockturn Alley whispering about it, calling it the 'Dark Mark.'

The sight of Sirius only served to remind Snape of Regulus's short, cruel letter, the one that called him a 'Half Blood fool' and told him they were no longer friends. Lucius had not written him at all, which was neither a bad or good sign, though Narcissa had owled him twice with an invite for tea. Her last letter had included a photograph of Draco in his pumpkin costume, trying to look intimidating and failing miserably. He had no way to interpret the unbearable silence of his former Slytherin friends, and despite the empty loneliness their absence brought, especially the obvious one of Regulus, he couldn't help feeling that he had finally gotten what he so desperately desired—to be completely alone. Except, apparently, Sirius Black had to ruin that for him, too.

"Believe me, Snape, I could do without seeing your ugly face so often." Sirius glared malevolently at the black-clad man as his picked his way through the spindly display tables by the front door. He needed some more mulberries, and he wouldn't say no to some slugs if they were fresh today. Unfortunately, he often needed to go to the Apothecary for supplies, and this meant seeing Snape almost as many times. Melinda would usually emerge from the back room at the sound of the voice, so their interaction was limited, but just seeing Snape was enough to put him in a bad mood. For Hermione, he was willing to put up with this annoyance, though.

On cue, Melinda appeared in the doorway of the back room, smiling widely at the sight of him. "Oh, Sirius, dear, I thought I heard you. What can I do you for today? We just got a lovely supply of unicorn horns today; no one's selling them this cheap, and they're going fast."

Sirius held up a hand, stopping her salesperson routine. She was usually trying to push unicorn horns on him, as if they were an essential potions ingredient; he had a feeling she had bought too many on her last order and was struggling to sell them. "No, just some mulberries. I don't suppose you have some fresh—" He was cut off by the door ringing as it opened and a burst of cold air washed over all of them. Sirius turned out of curiosity and then instantly turned away, looking down and trying to blend in with the wall. Lily had been standing in the doorway, blinking her eyes as she tried them to adjust to the dim lighting in the store.

"Hello, _dear,_" Melinda said with annoyance. "Severus isn't in today; he still has the dragon pox, I'm afraid." Sirius's jaw dropped, and he tilted his head to the left to look at the counter. Snape had suddenly disappeared.

"But I've gone to his place at least twenty times," Lily replied with desperation. Her voice was getting more and more high-pitched and hysterical with each word. "He never answers when I knock. I even went to St. Mungo's to see if he was there, and he's not. Where could he be if he's so ill he can't come to work? Or are you lying?" Sirius listened to this, torn between the desire to cruelly expose Snape and horror at why he was avoiding Lily at all.

"No, no, of course not," Melinda said, making a shooing motion with her hands as she walked toward Lily. "I'm sure he's just too busy recovering to come to the door. He'll be up and about in no time. Try again next week." Lily, looking utterly miserable, allowed Melinda to shoo her out the door. A few moments after the door opened and closed behind her, Snape emerged from behind the counter, irritably brushing dust from the knees of his robes.

"What the hell was that about?" Sirius said, rounding on Snape, but Melinda stepped between the two.

"You know, Severus," Melinda said, "I really can't have your dejected lovers coming into the shop, bothering my customers."

"She is _not _my lover!" Snape snapped. "And what customers?" He shot a particularly nasty look at Sirius, as if he had said all of this.

"Now, now," she said, patting Sirius's shoulder when he made to reply. Melinda smiled kindly at Snape, which was a miracle in itself. He had not been wrong to feel that, while she thought him wonderfully brilliant and a good apprentice, she also thought he was an odd, unpleasant sort of person. "Perhaps this is the sort of sign that tells you to move on with your life. You cannot spend your days doing nothing but work and dodging women." Snape curled his lip at the thought. It was true that Lily came daily, demanding to see Severus. He looked over a Sirius, who was an almost daily nuisance too, which made him remember the words of another Black. Really, if he thought about it, perhaps Regulus was right. Who _had_ ever heard of a well-to-do Potions Master, especially one who struggled so much to invent new potions, as he had been with that aging potion for months now? He sighed. If rumors were true, Dumbledore was indeed holding interviews for teaching posts in the Hogs Head pub in a week. Perhaps he should go.

While Snape stood looking oddly blank in response to her words, Melinda turned toward Sirius. "And if I'm losing my Potions apprentice, perhaps you would be interested in working here?"

"Me?" Sirius said aloud, and inwardly thought, 'Work?'

"Well, you're here all the time, and you certainly know your potions ingredients. Why not make some money along with it? Severus can train you while looking for work elsewhere."

He almost said no right then at hearing that, but he looked up at Snape, who looked uncharacteristically unsure of things at the moment. She did have a point about the money. Between all the potions' ingredients and books he'd purchased for Hermione and all of the rent and food he'd had to pay for both he and Remus, he was fast approaching poverty. He looked over at the shelf bearing the mulberries he had come for. Three galleons per jar, the sign beneath it said, written in Snape's chicken scratch. He turned back toward Melinda. "Do I get an employee discount?"

**llllll**

James looked up at Lily as she walked through the front door, brushing snow from where it had accumulated on her green hat and scarf. He forced a smile when they briefly made eye contact; it had become more and more difficult to determine what would make Lily start crying, and things felt tenser than he was used to. His own home life had been calm; his parents love was effortless and a fact. But Lily was slowly changing his view of the world; he never knew what to expect from her.

Lily entered the living room and stopped before him, her hands shaking as she unwound her scarf and dropped it at her feet. Her head was bowed, and James felt a thrill of fear at how stiff and straight she was standing in comparison. He opened his mouth to speak, but she interrupted him by falling heavily to her knees in front of him. He watched her smooth, pale hands reach uncertainly toward him and begin unbuckling his belt. James swallowed hard as she yanked his pants and boxers down in one go. He hissed when she took his member in her mouth, her long red hair covering most of her face, and gripped her shoulders painfully. Her hot tears ran down his thighs, and he came quickly, more out of fear than any real pleasure. He had been bothering her to have sex for weeks, but as she swallowed, choking slightly, and burst into loud sobs, he knew that something was very wrong here. He felt as if what Lily had just done was weird and something he should feel ashamed of, as if he had forced it upon her, and it had never been like that. But as she looked at him with bloodshot eyes, one hand covering her mouth to stifle her sobs, James realized that Lily had never been particularly overjoyed with their physical relationship, had she?

"Why did you do that?" James asked, and he was embarrassed to hear his voice shook with as much fear as he felt inside. He wanted to pull up his pants, to cover up the sad way he was exposed, but Lily was clutching his pant leg tightly with one hand.

It took Lily a moment to stop sobbing long enough to speak. "I wish that it was _you_ that I love. But it's not, James. It's just not you." She grabbed and pulled at her long hair with agony, feeling out of control.

"I…but…I…." he stuttered, felling even more embarrassed and uncertain. How does one respond to such a statement? He loved Lily; he had always loved Lily, ever since first year at Hogwarts. All of his fantasies had only ever been about her; he had never wanted to be with anyone but her. And despite the millions of times she had rejected him, had called him names, had sneered at his cockiness along with Snape, this truly hurt. "But we're married," he finished lamely. "I mean…" he desperately looked around the room, at the pictures of them and Harry. "You loved me once, right?"

Her silence was the worst part, followed by the way she stopped crying and looked up at him with pity in her eyes. They looked at each other, neither sure what to say, until a movement from the hallway made them both turn. Horrified, they stared at Harry, who had been standing there for a very long time, unnoticed by either. He looked uncharacteristically serious and pale, his green eyes flickering between his mothers' matching ones and his father's hazel ones. After a moment, he turned and walked slowly down the hallway to his room, closing the door quietly behind him.

**llllll**

**Sorry I didn't post this sooner. I finished most of it on Wednesday, but I wanted to add a little more. My updates are probably going to be about once a week now; I'm finding it too hard to write two chapters a week. The day will probably vary, too. I suggest Story Alerting this fic if you don't want to keep checking back. **

**Interesting facts: You need a wand to make Potions. I found this out when Pottermore came out, so apparently, Muggles could never do even this aspect of magic. Also, it's my birthday, which is very fun because it is also Halloween. Since I took off the day from work, I was actually able to finish and post this chapter. I hope you all liked it.**

**Have a good Halloween, everyone!**


	14. Chapter 14

The Absence

Chapter 14

by The Conqueror Worm

"_Sad but true, the two of us might really make it through._

_Oh , what's the use, dear Jenny, anyway?_

_The world is happy _

_The world is happy_

_The world is happy without you."_

_-The Dresden Dolls, "Dear Jenny"_

**llllll**

"This," Snape said, holding up a shiny gold coin, "is a _galleon_. Many things in our story cost at least one of these. For example…" He held up a gnarled root. "_This_ costs precisely four of them. It does not, however, cost 11 sickles."

"Alright, alright. I get it!" Sirius snapped, reaching into his pocket for a few galleons to drop into the register. Honestly, you messed up on one (or three) transactions and suddenly Snape was thrown into a tizzy.

Snape narrowed his black eyes at his coworker's tone. "I really can't see how you've made it to your twenties without being able to understand basic math. I'd do better trying to train a monkey to do this job than you."

Sirius opened his mouth to say something nasty, but Melinda emerged from the back room, grinning at the sight of Sirius, who looked haughty yet attractive behind the wooden counter. It really was nice to see a good looking man in her store, she thought; she hardly ever got anyone that wasn't deformed or ugly, her store being located in Knockturn Alley and all. Her shiny blue eyes glanced over at Snape and quickly looked away with a slight frown. Yes, certainly not a whole lot of attractive men here. "Well, boys, how is the training going?"

"Absolutely abysmal," Snape sneered, glaring at Sirius, but if Melinda heard him, she didn't react. Instead, she continued mooning over Black, who was saying something moronic while grinning in a way he must have thought made him seem endearing. Snape struggled not to role his eyes, though no one would have noticed; he was used to watching women go crazy over Sirius Black. He frowned, remembering the way the girls in Slytherin had bemoaned that Sirius Black had not been in their house; instead, they had gotten stuck with that dud, Regulus Black. The way Bellatrix would start cursing the girls wildly whenever she overheard these conversations almost made up for the annoyance of it. Instantly a small, barely imperceptible pang shot through his mind at the memory of Regulus—how he'd felt a little pity for Regulus, who was so talentless next to his family members, and how he'd wanted to annoy Sirius by taking his younger brother under his wing—but he quelled it almost instantly; Regulus had been nothing more than a haughty nuisance for years. The Blacks were all annoying, all arrogant and reckless idiots, and he'd had enough of them. He glanced over at Sirius, who was drumming his fingers on the wooden counter and watching the clock; Melinda had returned to the backroom, where she usually secretly napped while Snape manned the store. If she did so after Snape left, leaving Sirius in charge, this place would be out of business in a month. Or somehow burned to the ground, he thought, sneering.

"Er,so…" Sirius began, and Snape turned to find Black looking uncharacteristically uncomfortable. "Uh, Lily came in again yesterday while you were out on that delivery; she was asking for you." He took a deep breath, avoiding Snape's eyes. "She looked pretty embarrassed at the sight of me, though. Ran right out of here. I noticed she didn't come back in today."

Snape was quiet for so long that Sirius was sure that he wouldn't answer. Finally, he said rather quietly, "And what exactly is your point, Black?"

"Well, just that….I mean…" He looked around the store as if the rat brains and dead spiders would suddenly speak up with some helpful suggestions as to how to continue. "I kinda wondered what's going on between you and, you know, my best friend's wife." He finally glanced up and met Snape's eyes and instantly regretted it. Snape had a small, sick sort of smile on his face; there was something a little sinister about it.

"Tell me, Black, why the sudden interest in Potions again? You never seemed particularly interested in the subject in school, even if you did have some passable skill for it. And even stranger_, _why insist on shopping at a store in Knockturn Alley? Seems a little shady for a Gryffindor, but perhaps I'm being suspicious? I can't imagine _you_ would be up to something immoral." The last part he said slowly and sarcastically and Sirius swallowed rather loudly in reply. They spent the last hour together in silence, both staring at the clock as if it had wronged them by taking its time reaching five o'clock.

**llllll**

Albus Dumbledore caught Snape's eye from where he was seated at the bar and smiled politely. He nodded to the barman as Snape approached and gestured for the younger man to follow him to a room in the back. He pretended not to see Snape trip over an uneven floorboard and irritably swipe his greasy hair off of his face as they crossed the room to a small table by the fire. "It's a pleasure to see you again, Severus." He ignored Snape's look of skepticism at his words. "I trust you've been up to great things since graduation?"

"Well, I received my official Potions' Master licensure earlier this week, actually," Snape replied, sitting in the rickety wooden chair opposite Dumbledore's. "That's one of the reasons I wanted to interview with you, actually. I'm fully certified now."

"Congratulations," Dumbledore said, smiling that same polite smile. Severus instantly felt the odd annoyance he remembered feeling toward Dumbledore at school; he could never help feeling as if the Headmaster pitied him or thought him strange in comparison to his precious Gryffindors. "That is indeed an impressive feat for someone still so young. It usually takes another year or two, correct?"

"Yes, but I doubled up on some of my advanced courses and worked full-time during the days."

"Well, I can certainly see you're not afraid of hard work. Though," and here, Dumbledore seemed to get less friendly and more serious. "I must admit I'm confused as to why you wish to use your licensure to teach. According to Professor Slughorn, your career ambitions lay more in the realm of owning your own Apothecary; I assume that's why you trained in one, rather than as a teaching assistant, correct? And I must admit," he paused, adjusting his half-moon spectacles, "I never pegged you as someone who would wish to spend your days around children."

Dumbledore's words rang true; in fact, the word 'children' made him feel a twinge of disgust. "I think that this would be a good career for me," he lied, keeping his face smooth and impassive. "It's not what I intended _eight_ years ago," he paused to let a nasty little silence echo around his words. As if no one changed their career plans in that time! "But once I heard about the opportunity to teach, it seemed like the right path for me."

Dumbledore nodded. "Of course, of course. Life has a funny way of working sometimes, doesn't it, Severus? I suppose I just wonder at your level of commitment if this choice is truly a spur of the moment fancy."

Snape frowned, growing more and more angry at the way Dumbledore was speaking to him. Certainly, the Headmaster wasn't this hard on all of the candidates. He'd just seen Troy Donovan, who'd been a Ravenclaw two years above him at school, practically skipping out of the pub and waving over his shoulder at Dumbledore. He'd given Snape a skeptical little smirk as they passed each other, making sure to let his eyes linger on Snape's baggy, faded black robes and dirty hair. "I assure you, Headmaster, I am quite committed," he said through gritted teeth.

"Well, then, Severus, you won't mind if I ask you to lift up your left sleeve for a moment would you?" He gestured at Snape's arm as if it were something he didn't particularly want to touch himself.

Snape sat there for a moment, feeling somewhat confused. His arm? Was this some sort of test? Was he supposed to have done something to his arm before coming to the Hogs Head? "You're not serious, are you?" he finally said aloud.

"I assure you, Severus," Dumbledore replied grimly, no longer entertaining the pretense of politeness, "I am incredibly serious."

They sat for another moment, regarding each other with suspicion, before Snape started to roll up his sleeve, his black eyes boring into Dumbledore's blue ones. The Headmaster's Occlumency was perfect; he could not see or feel anything going on inside of the man across from him. He reinforced his own mind's walls, feeling the unsubtle push of Dumbledore's Legilimency skills. At last, Dumbledore broke their locked gazes and stared down at Snape's pale, skinny forearm, his eyebrows raised skeptically. The skin was smooth and unblemished, except for one or two small scars from burns he'd accrued while brewing potions. "And your right arm?" he said, as if he didn't believe what he was seeing. Snape sighed but obeyed, showing Dumbledore his right arm, too, which had quite a few more burn scars and a few from being thrown around by his father. Dumbledore slowly drew his wand, muttering incantations as he waved it over Snape's arms.

After a few minutes of this ridiculousness, Snape lost what little patience he had. "If there's no possibility of me getting this job, perhaps I'll just go, then, unless you have a few more things you'd like to mutter to my limbs."

Dumbledore put away his wand and looked back up at Snape, regarding him as if he wasn't quite sure who the person in front of him was. "Tell me, Severus, have you ever met a man who calls himself 'The Dark Lord?'"

Snape wrestled with whether he should answer this question or not, but Dumbledore didn't seem to have an ulterior motive. "Once," he muttered, looking away.

Dumbledore leaned forward and tented his fingers, resting his chin on top of them. "Only once? And he didn't mark you in some way during this meeting? Or perhaps mention a group calling themselves the Death Eaters?"

"He mentioned the Death Eaters." He wasn't about to tell Dumbledore he had been present at a Death Eater meeting, nor was he going to volunteer that the meeting had occurred during Lucius Malfoy's party.

"And?"

"And what? I thought it was a ridiculous name." Snape snapped, throwing his hands in the air. "Almost as ridiculous as this interview. Were you ever interested in me for the position, or was this always some ploy to see whether I agreed to be a psychopath's plaything for life?"

"On the contrary, Severus," Dumbledore said, adopting the same courteous tone he'd had at the beginning of the interview. "I think you are very well-suited for the job. Professor Slughorn initially planned to finish out the term, but in light of recent events, he has a strong desire to begin traveling as soon as possible. How would you like to start when classes resume in January?"

Snape blinked. "You mean, you're actually hiring me?" Dumbledore smiled sincerely and nodded. It was as if he had been holding his breath and was only now allowed to breathe again. This was the chance for him to separate himself from the people who had been taking turns tormenting him. In a few weeks, he'd never have to see Sirius again, Lily would have no idea where he had gone and could do nothing more but owl him, and he wouldn't have to deal with any old classmates dropping in to mock him or push him to take part in torturing Muggles. He allowed himself to flash a small, quick smile in Dumbledore's direction. This was his moment to finally escape.

**llllll**

"Where's Professor Slughorn?" A small, sandy-haired boy asked again, his small arm still raised in the air, though he'd blurted out the question before Snape could call on him.

"Ten points from Hufflepuff," Snape snarled, flexing his hands as if he wished to snap the boy's little neck with his bare hands. "And it'll be thirty if you ask me that question again."

"Sir? Sir!" a lanky girl shrieked, batting frantically at where her robes had caught on fire. Snape strongly considered letting the flames consume her, but he grudgingly put out the small fire by soaking her with water. She sputtered, spitting out water onto the floor.

"Professor," a boy whined, waving his hand in the air. "My potion is bright orange, but it's supposed to be blue. What happened? Can I still get points for trying?"

"Silence!" Snape snapped, giving a mad little hop to punctuate the word. "All of you shut up and work. If I hear so much as a cough, I'm taking a hundred points from Hufflepuff." He glared, making sure to make eye contact with every child in the room, all of whom looked a little frightened by his outburst. A boy sniffled, but Snape quelled the sound with a particularly nasty glare. He strode back to his desk, his robes flapping behind him, and sat down on his chair. He looked down at the lone piece of parchment on his desk, and after a moment, he shakily reached out and flipped it over to read the words again. Snape tried not to care; he wanted so badly to be numb, but a strange feeling kept bouncing around in his chest, as if a snitch were trapped in his rib cage.

_'I left James,'_ he read again and again until the bell rang and the sounds of eleven children packing their things and shuffling out of the room disrupted the silence buzzing around in his head.

**llllll**

**Well, what did everyone think? I've stopped getting Story Alerts, etc. for this fic, so with the exception of the talented Harmonic Friction, I'm not sure if people are still reading. A few reviews would be welcome, if anyone has a chance, even if it's just "I like it so far." Thank you in advance. ;)**

**Next chapter will be three years in the future, when Harry and Hermione are getting ready to start at Hogwarts. I have some plans for Sirius that I can't wait to write, and you'll see more Snape/Lily. I'll try to get a new chapter up sometime next week. **


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